


Quid Pro Quo

by Gabtinha



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Art, Dragon Age Lore, F/M, Fex, Fluff and Smut, Friendship/Love, Humor, I will update the tags as the fic goes on, Love, M/M, Multi, Not really that slow build, Oral Sex, Past Drug Addiction, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Sexual Content, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Threesome - F/M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension, non-cannon stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-03-31 16:44:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 27,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3985426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabtinha/pseuds/Gabtinha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Fex is one of the 5 sapient races in Thedas, yet nobody knows much about them. What if one of them joined the Inquisition? I wanted to be able to play with some concepts that I had in mind, like a mage+rogue combo and the POV of someone who was not the inquisitor....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have to thank MaryPopNLockins (You are just perfect!!! And wonderful!!! And AWESOME), Sophe (you rock!!! when I grow up, I want to write just like you) for being my betas. Mamsh (you are an artist!!!!), Rhydnara and MadameGandalf for helping with ideas. Without you guys this would never see the light! 
> 
> The tags will be updated as the story develops. 
> 
> I took some liberties with The Qunari language, the site doesn't allow me to add footnotes so the translation of what I have written will be at the end. Same with the Fex. And in case anyone is wondering, they speak Portuguese. 
> 
> And please, comment! That really helps and gives warm fuzzy feelings in the tummy.

 

_"Remanso de rio largo,_

_Viola da Solidão:_

_Quando vou pr’a dar batalha_

_Convido meu coração” (Nimue’s focusing verse)_

The heat was unbearable, even for her. Nimue looked for decent shade nearby where she could catch her breath. Perhaps riding to Qunandar would have been better but depriving her people of the very few horses they had was simply not an option.  She made her way to a guava tree nearby, gathered some ripe fruit and sat down to eat. She knew she had been selected for this mission because she looked like the humans she was bound to meet along the way.

She was a half-breed. Her mother was a human mage from the Free Marches who was researching herbs in Par Vollen. She was captured by Tal-Vashoth and rescued by a group of Fex warriors. Her father was one of the _aparições do breu_ , a group of magically talented rogues, highly skilled in stealth, daggers and espionage. He was one of the very few that could communicate with her mother in the beginning, having worked for years in the outside world as an _espreitador_ , a spy.

Being a skilled healer allowed her mother to find a place in their society and eventually be considered one of them. Nimue didn’t know much more about her. She died during the birth of her younger brother, Raios, and her father could not speak about her mother without bursting into tears. One thing her father always said was that Nimue had her mother's jet black hair and dark brown eyes; unique among the Fex whose hair varied from platinum blonde to bright red and whose eyes were gem like, with varying shades of light blue to hues of purple. She also thought that she had inherited her mother's figure: her hips were curvier and larger; breasts fuller and waist thinner than the other females. She was shorter than a full-blooded Fex, being only a mere six-foot when the average height for a Fex was eight-foot. She was considered quite unattractive among her people who preferred an androgynous look in their males and females.

She was at least three days journey from the gates of Qunandar. From there she would need to catch a boat to Seheron and then Tevinter in order to reach Ferelden, her final destination. Reaching Qunandar would be easy, for the Qunari tolerated the Fex travelling to their cities to gather supplies and do some trading. That happened after the peace treaty was signed. Before the treaty her people were either slaughtered or forced to convert to the Qun. Her biggest problem would be guaranteeing safe passage on a ship leaving Seheron bound for Minrathous. Her chieftain had managed to negotiate with the Arishok on her behalf, using the excuse that she was to buy some medicine from Tevinter healers; this would get her to Seheron but after that she would be on her own devices to get to Ferelden.

Because she was an _aparição do breu_ she learned early on how to conceal her magical abilities from others. She had to be very careful about revealing what she could do; anyone could be a Ben-Hassarah. Her goal was to reach the conclave that was to take place in the Temple of the Sacred Ashes. It could be the opportunity her people needed to negotiate their relocation to the South of Thedas. It was a long shot but it was worth a try.

Nimue ate the last of the fruit and continued on her way to Qunandar, she wanted to get there as fast as her feet would allow.

____________________________________________

“ _Kost Nehraa Sok_ ,” said Nimue.

The ship’s captain didn’t look very pleased with the fact he was carrying a Fex along with the crew.  “ _Kost Neheraa Sok, Basfaran_. We leave for Seheron in the morning. I have been instructed to give you safe passage on one of our ships. You are not to leave your cabin unescorted or talk to anyone unless you are addressed first. When we arrive in Seheron you’ll be escorted to the markets by a Sten and expected to follow his directions.”

Nimue made her way to her cabin. If she were to disappear right in front of the eyes of a Sten she would need to focus her magic for a long time. Any Fex had to focus before they could use their magic. She normally spent her nights focusing so she could use magic the following day. No focus, no magic. So, the more she focused, the more magic she had. She would need enough to be able to stealth out of the Sten’s grasp and keep herself hidden until she could find safe passage to Minrathous.

The ship reached Seheron at night after a five day journey. Nimue kept to her cabin, feigning seasickness and managed to spend most of her time focusing uninterrupted, building her reserve of magic. Once they docked the Captain knocked on her door. “You’ll be allowed to go ashore in the morning. Sten will be waiting for you after dawn on the deck. No funny business.”

The market was set up in the open space of the town square. The buildings surrounding it were terracotta and the ground was covered in little tiles that formed a multitude of geometrical mosaics. The placements of the merchant stalls followed no organisation or order which made the market appear larger than it was. It was a claustrophobic experience; perfumed smells mingled with sharp spices, the voices of vendors shouting over each other about their goods, and the garish patchwork of colours and patterns covering the stalls. In short, it was the perfect place for someone to disappear in plain sight.

Nimue approached one of the thousand herb merchants and started ordering from a long list of herbs and ingredients; Elfroot, Deep Mushroom, Spindleweed, Arbor Blessing…anything she could come up with. She wanted to make the merchant walk back and forth as much as possible looking for stock at opposite ends of the stall. As planned, she noticed that the Sten was starting to lose focus. Suddenly, as if sent by the Creators, a group of Tevinter children chased by two Elven slaves and a woman sprinted in their direction. The woman stopped between the Qunari and Nimue to catch her breath. Nimue squatted, feigning interest in a bunch of herbs in front of her and vanished.

______________________

The rest of the trip to Minrathous was easier than she had expected. Either the Qunari didn’t bother looking for her or the Sten had fashioned an exceptionally good excuse as to why he came back without the Fex.

Even better, the Sten could have decided it wasn’t worth sweating over an explanation and became Tal-Vashoth.

Now, that would have been a cracker, Nimue thought.

Minrathous was the furthest she’d ever travelled in the world, but then she’d never had cause before.  She figured that the best way to proceed was to join a caravan headed for Ferelden. This way would make for a slower trip but it would avoid the risk of getting lost in unknown territory.

It was an uneventful journey, saving for the fact that everybody stared at her like there was something odd about her that they couldn’t quite figure out. Some kept commenting on how tall she was. That always made her chuckle.

_______________________

_How can people live in this cold?_

_How can they survive in this Creators' forsaken place?_ Nimue thought with a shiver.

It took them almost a month to get to Haven and the weather grew colder with each minute. The fact that it was also snowing didn’t help. Nimue had seen the snow just once before but right now she decided that she had already seen enough of it to last a lifetime.

When the caravan finally reached Haven, Nimue made her way to the tavern . She could see the Temple high up on the mountain. Tomorrow she needed to make her way there, but right now she was going to have a warm meal and a good night’s sleep. The Temple wasn’t going anywhere.

As that thought crossed her mind she heard the explosion and saw the tear rip the sky open. Then, all chaos ensued.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nimue's focusing verse: “Still water of a large river/A Guitar’s solitude/ When I go to battle/I invite my heart”  
> Aparições do breu: Ghosts from the dark  
> Espreitador: Lurker  
> Kost Nehraa Sok: I couldn’t find a greeting in Qunlat (Qunari language) so I invented one, it should translate “Peace for the struggle”  
> Basfaran: My personal contribution to Qunlat: Basfaran is how they call the Fex race


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nimue starts working for the Inquisition and Alistair has a very interesting dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to split the old chapter into two. I think this way it will be more accessible. Sorry if anyone read before I made the changes. I am a bit of a newbie, so I guess these edits will happen again
> 
> Thank you so much Aubreyella (MaryPopNLockins) and Sophe! You guys are wonderful

There was nothing she could do but wait. There was talk of demons falling from rifts in the sky, whispers about a tear in the Fade, and fevered chatter about a sole survivor of the explosion. Rumor was, a human male had emerged from the Breach and was being kept prisoner.

 

Four days after the explosion, Nimue saw a surge of energy on the horizon. For a very brief moment the breach opened and then closed again. Later that evening, what appeared to be military forces started to arrive in Haven. Their main army camped outside the city gates near the lake and the rest of their contingent near the Chantry building. While they were setting up camp, Nimue entered stealth. An invisible person will always have better eyes and ears, especially when it comes to gathering valuable information and keenly observing her surroundings.

 

According to the talks around town, the Divine had left instructions for the reinstatement of something called the Inquisition. It was to serve as a backup plan in case her attempt to establish accord between Mages and Templars failed, or some other calamity occurred during the Conclave.

 

 _I guess a tear in the sky and the Temple of Sacred Ashes exploding certainly classifies as a calamity_ , Nimue thought.

 

Two high-ranking members of the Chantry, The Divine’s Left Hand, Leliana, and her Right Hand, Cassandra, were looking for a figurehead to take on the mantle of Inquisitor. Apparently they had searched for a man named Garrett Hawke, The Champion of Kirkwall, and Astrid, the Hero of Ferelden and a Grey Warden. Neither could be found.

 

The lone survivor from the explosion was a nobleman from the Free Marches, Maxwell Trevelyan. He had been the one to stabilise the Breach after Cassandra had released him. It was due to this act that people had started calling him the Herald of Andraste. Maxwell currently laid unconscious in one of the cabins, his strength drained after defeating a Pride demon.

 

Alongside Leliana, Cassandra and the Herald, there were a number of others who formed what seemed to be an ‘inner-circle’. There was the Antivan woman named Josephine; a crafty and shrewd negotiator who appeared to be acting as their Ambassador. Cullen, the Commander of their growing army and, from what Nimue could gather, a former Templar. They had also brought along an Elven apostate mage named Solas and a Dwarf, named Varric, who seemed to have an unhealthy attachment to his crossbow.

 

Yet, of all these, it was Cullen who fascinated Nimue the most. To her he seemed a troubled man, not quite comfortable in his skin. He appeared to be something of an anomaly amongst those gathered in Haven. He spent his nights reciting the Chant of Light in the Chantry, or alone in his tent staring at a box he never opened. Nimue wondered if he ever slept. Whenever the Commander walked alone his face seemed full of doubt, as if he second-guessed every decision he made. Amongst his soldiers, however, any apparent insecurities seemed to vanish, replaced by strength and determination. Cullen was an inspiring leader, well loved and admired by all under his command. A man of few words, but his confident, husky voice could rally anyone when it needed to. Nimue was taken by his height, curly blonde hair, amber coloured eyes, and the alluring scar above his lip that drew her eyes to his mouth more often than she cared to mention. He looked fierce and virile in his armour; a lion ready to pounce.

 

She also discovered that the Inquisition was recruiting volunteers willing to help in their crusade. Nimue made the decision that it would be beneficial to join. It would be the best way to participate in the events that were unfolding and maybe do some good. What had happened on the mountain affected her deeply. She still had reservations about the legitimacy and sincerity of the Inquisition, especially its members, but she figured that perhaps it was too early to judge and besides, what other choice did she have? So, decision made, Nimue headed over to the Scout Major’s tent to offer her services to the cause.

 

When she got there, however, the Scout Major wasn't alone.

 

“Pellane, I would like to talk to this one myself.” A sweet, musical voice with a studied Orlesian accent came from the hooded woman behind the desk in the far corner of the tent. “What is your name?”

 

Nimue saw she was dealing with a fellow rogue. Simple armour, designed to blend in, but closer observation showed it to be made of the finest materials available. A redhead with beautiful blue eyes, she seemed to be the same age as Nimue. Of course, the Spymaster.

 

“My name is Nimue.”

 

“Walk with me, Nimue.”

 

They made their way from the centre of Haven towards the lake outside the town walls.

 

“I have never seen a Fex with black hair before, or one with dark eyes. Most unusual. I suppose it must have been quite a journey for you to get here. Months on the road, having to first escape Qunari territory! Maker, why are you here?”

 

“You seem to know a lot about my people. Most unusual,” Nimue said, avoiding the question.

 

“I wouldn’t be very good at my job if I didn’t. You must excuse my manners, I am Leliana.”

 

“The Left Hand of the Divine.”

 

“You know of me.” It was not a question.

 

“I wouldn’t be good at my job if I didn’t,” Nimue replied, smirking.

 

Leliana laughed. “Indeed. So I am dealing with _an aparição do breu_. You did get a bit sloppy, though. The daggers are a telltale sign. We do not have flint daggers in South Thedas. They are quite beautiful. You call them _adagas_ , yes? Nimue, I know that if you did not want to be seen I would not be talking to you. I also know that you being here is not mere coincidence. You want something, yes? Tell me what you want and if it is within my reach I will help you get it. All I ask in return is that we work together. The Inquisition could most definitely use someone with your abilities. _Quid Pro Quo_ , Nimue.”

 

“ _Quid Pro Quo_ , you say? All right. My people want to relocate to the south. We thought that by reaching out to the Conclave we would be able to initiate talks about gathering support for the move. I guess now with no Divine, Orlais in war, and political uncertainty in all the places we thought would be able to help us, I have no choice but to take on your offer. I’ll give you what you want and, in return, you’ll give me what I need.”

 

“I ask nothing else. I promise you that if you help us, I’ll do anything in my power to help your people.”

 

“Why are you doing this? Why are you being so open and welcoming?” Nimue asked.

 

“Because neither you nor your people has given me reason to be otherwise. Unlike the others, your people has no political agenda other than surviving. You are not of a bellicose nature. I know that your warriors only retaliate, quite proficiently I may say, but they never start a fight. And you, _an aparição do breu_ , only spy to prevent more harm to your people. I really admire those qualities. That is why I want to help. Pellane will assign you a tent.  Now, let’s have dinner. I bet you are starving, yes?”

_________________________

 

 _And this is it; I have come full circle_ , thought Alistair. _Ex-Templar in training,  former Grey-warden - if anyone can call themselves ‘former’ with the taint and all – delivery man of unpleasant news and witty one liners; bastard son of King Maric, disgraced traitor, and now, a recruit again._

 

“You’ll report to Lieutenant Rylen, he is going to show where you’ll bunk. Anything else you want to know you’ll have to ask him. Go, talk to Harritt, the blacksmith, he is outside the gates, he’ll fit you a new armour,” Threnn, the quartermaster said looking at Alistair. “You are Fereldan, innit? A soldier your age was probably ‘n Ostagar. I served under Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir, best commander this world has ev’r seen!”

 

“Yep, I was with the company that charged forward and got desolated. Not me though. No desolation of Alistar.”

 

“Alistair, you say?  Are you _the_ Alistair?”

 

“Nope, pretty sure there is more than one Alistair in Thedas. Anyway, I better go.  I heard that demons are falling from the sky. Don’t want to stay standing still in one place, just in case one decides to fall on my head.  That would be... bad.”

 

Alistair made his way to where the troops were training, whoever was in charge knew what they were doing. _Good leg work, shield aimed a bit down to deflect fire or acid, just like a Templar, just like I was taught... it appears the Commander knows some tricks of the trade, he thought._

 

Among the fighters he saw a tall man dressed in a pelt. _Definitely the Commander, all prim, proper. Better stay clear from him for the time being, until I get my bearings. Don’t want to be shoved around like an old relic just yet. Might wait a day or two before pulling the ‘look at me! I am an antique from the fifth Blight’ trick._

 

Alistair found Rylen easy enough. He just had to follow the shouts towards a group of recruits that were having a hard time grasping the ‘a sword is not a toy’ concept.

 

“Lieutenant Rylen, I am recruit Alistair,” he said saluting Rylen.

 

“Recruit! At ease. Quartermaster Threnn sent the word that I should keep an eye out for you! ‘A bloody good one from Ostagar!' she said. I guess I know what she meant, you look you’ve been through your fair share of fights. I am assigning you to tent number 10, roll A. You’ll be sharing with one of Sister Nightingale’s people. Go, get yourself settled, dinner is being served in the mess hall. In the morning, I want you to meet the Commander. I am sure he’ll make very good use of you.”

 

“Sister Nightingale, you say?”

 

“Yes, why?”

 

“No reason.”

 

The mess hall, from what Alistair remembered, used to be an old stable where the town kept the village’s horses and some of the livestock during winter. It was a rectangular building with just one entrance and one exit and not many windows.

 

Entering the building, Alistair noticed that there were two rows, each one consisting of six tables that could comfortably seat ten people. Only three tables were being used. There were hot food stations against the two main walls, across from each other, but just one served food.

Considering the circumstances, Alistair thought dinner was generous. On each table there were jugs of ale and fresh water, baskets with different types of bread and platters with three types of cheese, _Yes! Cheese!!_ Pickled vegetables, horseradish cream and thinly sliced black pudding. There were also bowls with fresh lettuce and onions and trays with seasonal fruit.  On the hot food station they were serving roast ham, chicken and lamb with carrots, turnips and gravy, Redcliffe pudding, goat’s cheese and spinach tarts.

 

 _At least the food is good_. He made his way to the table, piled as much as he could on his plate and sat down with the new recruits.

 

The conversation was going well until he looked up and saw Leliana. But what really caught his attention was the woman behind her. She had long black hair in a braid that fell over her shoulder. Big brown eyes. Her face was different from anything he had seen before, it was quite angular. She was not exactly beautiful, but definitely exotic looking with a very soft semblance. Her skin tone reminded him of the warm milk with cinnamon he used to drink before going to bed as a child. _I wonder how she smells. By the Maker, perfect, bountiful, luscious round breasts, just the right size for my hands to cup.  And the way she walks- her hips sway almost melodically!_

He quickly looked back at Leliana. She had recognised him and nodded a cold acknowledgement. That was not what he expected, sure, he was not counting on a warm reunion of an old time friend, but he was certainly not prepared for that.

 

He tried to look back to his plate but his attention kept being drawn to the woman with Leliana. _At least she hasn’t noticed I am gawking at her_.

 

After finishing dinner and playing a couple of hands of wicked grace, Alistair made his way to his tent. He was still thinking about the woman he saw with Leliana. _Good cheese and fascinating women, if it was not for the hole in the sky, I could get used to this!_ he thought.

 

He chuckled remembering how much of prude and inexperienced he used to be a decade ago. _A virgin, straight out of the Chantry. And then the Blight...Loghain’s scheme... and I betrayed the people that I loved the most. Astrid, my ‘sister’ and best friend, in a moment of childish selfishness, I left her to defend Ferelden and kill an archdemon by herself! Maker, I hope her and Zevran are happy, wherever they are! Ten years drunk in Kirkwall and I accomplished nothing. Except good tumbles in bed and heroic hangovers. I haven’t got anything but regrets_ , he thought with remorse. He knew he became a different person with liquor. He didn’t know to live his life sober, at least not anymore and that frightened him.  Still the thought of a warm body against his during these cold nights was quite enticing.

 

Alistair saw someone was already in the tent. He decided to play friendly with his new bunkmate and just burst in introducing himself.

 

 _Maker’s breath, it’s her! This will be interesting. Better start talking and stop ogling,_ he thought grinning to himself. “We haven’t met, have we? Allow me to introduce myself. I am Alistair, the newest recruit in the Inquisition. But I guess you already knew that. So I am curious, what’s your name?” _And there it is! The bumbling idiot that I thought I had left behind years ago. Maker strike me now!_

 

“Nimue,” she said simply.

 

“Very unusual name. I like it. So, Nimue, what made you want to join the Inquisition? Why do you have daggers? I didn’t know Mages used daggers. I thought all Mages were in Redcliffe, and I didn’t think Leliana would have one working for them. Not that Mages are useless, or evil… or… you know what I mean….” _Right now, shoving the foot in my mouth would be an understatement._

 

“Mage? No, I don’t know what you mean?”

 

“You are a mage, right? You see, my background makes Mages nervous and don’t want to be turned into a toad. I like the way I am,” he said with a nervous laugh. _Great Alistair, just great! Smooth as a Golem in glass workshop._

 

“I am not a mage. A rogue, yes, but no Mage.”

 

“Are you sure? You do feel like a mage to me. You see, I was trained as a Templar.”

 

“Another ex-Templar? Is that a thing in Ferelden?”

 

“You lost me there, lady.  As I was telling you,I trained as a Templar before I...nevermind, and one thing I can recognise is a mage.”

 

“Well, I guess they didn’t do a very good job, because as I said, I am no mage. But then again, you said you are not a fully fledged Templar,” Nimue smiled at him.

 

 _Andraste’s frilly knickers, that smile. It is like my legs have melted!_ He thought. “But, really? I mean, it is not like I am going around the camp with my arms up yelling ‘Apostate! The pretty lady is an apostate!”

 

“Yeah, right. But, I am no Mage. Do you see a staff? Am I wearing robes? Perhaps a grimoire nearby? I am not a Mage.”

 

“That is really odd. There must be something wrong with me, or perhaps with you. I guess time will tell,” Alistair said as he raised his eyebrow.

 

Nimue left the tent and made her way to the lake, prolonging the conversation was not the best idea at that stage. She was still unsure about Alistair, no matter how gorgeous he was.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet the Inquisitor, Maxwell Trevelyan. Nimue tries to get some sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have art! Check the amazing work of RabidTanuki on her tumblr http://rabidtanuki.tumblr.com/post/123409981881/for-quid-pro-quo-by-gabtinha-chapter-3-nimue-and

It was late, most of the people had already retired for the night, the fires around the camps were starting to die out and a light fog was coming down. When Nimue approached the lake she saw a man sitting on the deck with his legs hanging over the edge. It was the Herald of Andraste.

 

He seemed lonely and a bit lost without the members of the Inquisition hovering over him.  Maxwell Trevelyan was without a shadow of a doubt a warrior. Nimue saw that every big muscle in his body was there for a purpose, nothing for show. Purely manly functionality. He was powerfully built but not extremely tall. He clearly favoured a two-handed weapon. His clothes were of a rich fabric but simple. He wore no rings or amulets, and his long dark auburn hair was neatly tight in a ponytail by a silver cloth band. Nimue understood why some people would consider him a good looking man, bright green eyes and thick eyelashes. She was sure that at least three of the Inquisition’s Council were infatuated with him. She didn't understand why, but she immediately felt like she could trust him completely, a very unusual feeling.

 

Nimue forgot the social rules about approaching a figurehead in human society and just sat beside him, like she would do with any Fex. “How are you holding up?”

 

Maxwell was startled realising there was someone beside him, “I beg yer pardon?” He asked in the strong brogue from the Free Marshes.

 

“I mean, you go from being the most wanted criminal in Thedas to joining the army of the faithful. Quite an impressive feat,” Nimue said.

 

“I am just glad I survived at all, lass,” Maxwell said with a weary smile.

 

“I guess it is a lot to take in. My name is Nimue. I am one of the scouts working with Leliana.”

 

“I am Maxwell, supposedly the Herald of Andraste, but I guess ye already knew that.” He smiled.

 

“Yes, I did. But you didn’t really answer my question, besides being happy to be alive. How are you coping with that?” Nimue gestured towards the many tents and campsites in behind them.

 

“That is really funny, ye are the first person to ask. My sincere answer is, I doona know. Nobody asked me if I wanted the fucking cursed job! It was dumped because of this bloody mark! Doona get me wrong,  I want to help. I WILL help, lass, all this dogshit about being the Herald of fucking Andraste, pardon my Orlesian, I dinna ask for that. Fucking Cassandra, Leliana and the others dumped this shit onto me! Why not have Cullen as the bloody fucking Herald? He sure looks uptight enough for this religious crap. ‘Oh look at me! I am so perfect that even the Holy Templars were not good enough for me!’ They can cut my hand off and attach to the bloody Commander for all that I fucking care!” Maxwell threw a pebble into the frozen lake so hard that Nimue heard it cracking the ice. “Look, sorry for dumping all this on ye, Nimue. I hope I haven’t scared ye away, but you did ask.”

 

“Yes, I did, you are right, but you didn’t scared me away, I guess for that I needed to believe this is the work of Andraste in the first place to be scared. I don’t.”

 

“What do ye mean ye don’t, lass?”

 

“I don’t believe in Andraste, in the way you do, and I think there is more to it. I don’t know. There has to be more to the story.”

 

“Quite straight to the point, are we?" He said with a big smile.

 

“Me? Straight to the point? I didn’t use a single “fuck” in my sentence, _laddie_ ,” Nimue said nudging his shoulder. It felt completely natural as if they knew each other from past lives.

 

“Fucking ouch. I guess now is me turn, aye? Why are ye here? I am sure ye would have better things to do, lass.”

 

“Thousands of people died in that mountain. I could have been one of them if I had arrived here earlier on the day. I cannot just walk away and go back to my people. Besides, there is no guarantee that what is happening will not also affect them.”

 

“Yer people? I gather from the accent ye are not Fereldan? Orlesian?”

 

“I am from Par Vollen.”

 

“But ye are not Qunari. How come?”

 

“They are not the only ones there. I am a Fex. “

 

“Really? Fucking oath! I thought yer people didn’t exist anymore.”

 

“We do. Very few left but we still exist.”

 

“And why was a Fex at the Conclave? Ye doona have Templars, Mages or even a fucking Chantry, aye? Do ye even believe in the Maker?”

 

“Yes and no. We believe in the Creators. We believe they originated all the races in Thedas. So for us, the Maker, The Elven Gods and even the Stone for the Dwarfs are all the same thing: The Creators.”

 

“How about Magic?” Maxwell asked

 

“It is different for us too. We don’t have the ‘shooting lighting, rising dead at will’ type of magic. Magic doesn’t come to us as easy as it comes to humans, elves or even the Qunari. We can only contact the Fade through our focusing but even then, it is very limited. Our priests say that we are not able to go deep into the Fade because we almost never dream. In a way it is good, demons are not able to find us or possess us. In truth, what we have is a quantity of mana that we normally use to help us excel our abilities. But in order to do that we need to focus.  The more we focus, more things we can do. I, for example, use my mana to increase the abilities that I was trained: stealth, velocity, daggers and subterfuge. If I wanted, I could disappear in front of your eyes. I guess in this sense we are somewhat similar to the dwarfs.”

 

“I guess ye got a good deal there.”

 

“I don’t know. I always wondered what dreaming is like. From what I gathered it is something to behold.”

 

“Or something to dread. Dreams can become nightmares.”

 

“I wouldn’t know that. I have yet to dream.”

 

“One thing's for certain if the Chantry even suspects ye guys still exist, this fucking war between Mages and Templar would have a whole new fucking meaning, but that is something to worry about tomorrow. I guess it is late and if Cassandra doesn’t hear me snoring by the time she comes to check - she thinks I doona know she comes to my door every night - she will have kittens!” Maxwell said while standing up.

 

Nimue couldn’t hold herself and burst into laughter thinking about Cassandra and kittens. Maxwell looked a bit amused at first but then started laughing too. When he finally managed to stand up, he offered his hand to Nimue.

 

“Thank ye! That was fucking awesome! Andraste’s sagging tits! I needed that talk, Nimue. I want to call ye my friend.”

 

“That would be my _fucking_ pleasure, Maxwell!” Nimue said trying to imitate his brogue.

 

“That is settled then! And we do need to do this again.”

 

“That is a deal!”

 

Nimue started to make her way back to her tent. Hopefully Alistair was sleeping and she would be able to focus.

 

When she got back to the tent Alistair was in fact already sleeping. Without making any noise she took of her clothes keeping only her chemise and braies and started her focusing exercise. Focusing consisted of sitting still and repeating the verse, unique to each Fex, while slowing down breathing. Once breathing was slow enough mana and magic power started flowing through.

Yet, she couldn’t focus. Her eyes kept wandering back to the man sleeping on the cot beside her. He was an impressive figure. Broad shoulders and long strong legs, the well-balanced physique of someone who favoured fighting with a shield. Hazel eyes, honey coloured hair and tanned skin. His face was breathtaking, even the scars added to his beauty; straight nose, and curved lips. She was not going to be able to focus, let alone sleep.

___________


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ex-templars meet. And a very eventful war council

Cullen was overwhelmed by paperwork. The Inquisition was declared less than a week ago and paper was already flooding his desk. He was pretty sure that during the very few hours of sleep he managed the night before, the pile had magically tripled. He was contemplating whether he should start trying to make a dent on it now or after the meeting in the war room when he heard Rylen’s voice outside his tent.

“Commander, may we come in?”

“Yes, Rylen,” Cullen answered without looking up.

“Commander, I would like to introduce you to one of our new recruits. I know you usually meet them during training but this one is experienced and I thought you might want to assign him to duty straight away.”

Cullen looked up and saw Alistair. He was different from the last time he saw him. _Clean, shaved, focused eyes, straight posture..._ “Alistair, I have to admit you are one of the last people I expected to see here.”

“Cullen! I guess I could say the same.”

“So, you know each other?” Rylen asked.

“You could say so,” Alistair answered.

“Thank you, Rylen. That will be all,” Cullen said.

Rylen left, looking over his shoulder trying to eavesdrop on more of the conversation. Cullen waited until he was out of sight to point Alistair to one of the chairs in front of his desk. “I thought you would still be in Kirkwall. You were a regular at the Hangman.”

“I used to, not anymore. I thought ten years were enough. Even with my warden metabolism my liver started to complain,” Alistair said with a sarcastic smile.

Cullen looked at him almost in rage, “Andraste’s sake, Alistair! This is not a joke! This is not another drunken game you used to play with Varric! We are here to help people, not entertain the whims of someone who was not man enough to do his job. I have no place for selfish and self-indulgent cowards!”

Alistair’s expression suddenly turned very dark and taciturn, “Do. Not. Call. Me. That.”

“No? Drunken hedonist maybe,” Cullen said defiantly. “You could have helped in Kirkwall, you should have snapped out of your stupor!”

“I know what I have done, okay? I have lived with the thought of it. I know I failed Ferelden, Kirkwall, Astrid, you, myself. You know? One of the reasons that brought me to here is because I still remember Kinloch Lake. I remember what happened, I remember everything; how you looked at me when I carried you down the stairs, the feeling I was doing something good,” Alistair saw Cullen clench his jaw. “Why do you think I am here? For the ale? Even you, Cullen, know there’s much better ale in Kirkwall,” Alistair said bitterly. “I came here to help, and maybe, Maker permitting, make amends for all that I have done. I am but a man, Commander. I am not trying to be sanctimonious. I just need a chance to prove myself. You had your second chance, shit Cullen, you even had a third. You are here because of that. Now, I need mine.”

Cullen couldn’t believe in what he was seeing. Alistair was the man that saved him from the demon in Kinloch. The Hero of Ferelden was there, but it was Alistair who saved him. It was Alistair’s warmth and care that made him stand up after being so ruthlessly tempted by the demon. It was him who carried Cullen down the stairs to safety. Cullen never forgot Alistair and what he had done for him. It almost tore him apart every time he saw Alistair drinking himself into oblivion.

Cullen could see that Alistair’s eyes were tearing up. “All right! Let me talk to the rest of the council to sort out the details. You will be working with me and I will keep an eye on you. Just one slip and you will be out!”

“Thank you, Cullen! That is all I ask.”

“You’ll report to me every day. I’ll assign your tasks and I expect you to follow them to the letter. This morning I want you to help Rylen teaching the recruits to work with their shields. Maker knows they need to learn! Meet me here mid afternoon and I will be in position to tell you exactly what you will be doing.”

“Thank you, Cullen! You won’t be disappointed!” Alistair said.

Because of his dealings with Alistair, Cullen was late for the meeting. The council was already in heated discussion when he arrived.

“The mark needs more power to close the Breach for good,” Cassandra said.

“We need to approach the rebel mages for that,” Leliana pointed out.

“I disagree. The Templars could serve just as well, if not better,” Cullen said rushing in.

“It doesn't fucking matter. We are still not a strong enough to be able to approach either group. So, not only I am stuck with this shit on my hand, there’s not a fucking thing I can do about it,” Maxwell said.

“There’s something you could do. Mother Giselle, a Chantry cleric wants to speak with you,” Leliana said.

“Chantry cleric. Shit,” Maxwell dead-panned.

“She is not far and knows those involved far better than I. Her assistance could be invaluable.”

“I’ll talk to her, “Maxwell said with a disgruntled sigh.

“Now that we have that sorted out, there is something else I wish to discuss. We have a Fex amongst us,” Leliana said.

“And what does that mean? I thought they were extinct.” Cullen said.

“Not entirely, there is still a small population in Par Vollen. According to what she told me, the Fex are seeking support for their relocation to South Thedas to avoid Qunari persecution. ” Leliana said.

“Can she be trusted?” Cullen asked.

“I don’t know. The fact is, she can be quite dangerous. She is an _aparição do breu_ , a ghost from the dark. She is one of their rogues, and she can use magic to enhance her abilities. In fact most, Fex can. They are a very secretive people and considering how legendary their rogues are amongst the ones of the trade, I’d say we need to keep an eye on her. I did, however, manage to strike an advantageous bargain with her. She will be working for me, at least until I know for sure what her intentions are. I offered to help her in finding a way to relocate her people. She seems to have believed me, that should keep her appeased for the time being anyway,” Leliana said.

“Ye are fucking unbelievable!” Maxwell shouted slamming the table. “What is fucking wrong with ye people? Is she yer next target, Sister Leliana? Are ye going to make her yer prisoner, Seeker Cassandra? Oh No… She doesn't have the fucking magic mark! So ye are just going to lie to her? Give her hope? Not only for her, but for her entire fucking people? When when ye don’t need her anymore? Ye just get rid of her?! Fucking easy innit?” Maxwell’s brogue was becoming even more prominent as his anger rose. “And ye ask me why I don’t want to be here! Why I don’t want to be the Herald of fucking Andraste! Ye are scum, vile filthy scum! I had enough of this fucking shit!” Maxwell stormed off slamming the door after him.

“Should I go after him?” Josephine asked.

“No, let him calm down. I suspect anyone coming close to him risks to have their head chopped off. I’ll talk to him later,” Cullen said. “At any rate, I also had an interesting encounter this morning. Alistair has joined the Inquisition.”

“Alistair? As in Alistair Theirin?” Josephine asked.

“Indeed. I saw him last night in the mess hall. I was going to approach him but I guess Cullen beat me to it,” Leliana added.

“Well, Rylen brought him to my tent this morning. We talked for quite a while. He joined the Inquisition as a recruit; he wants to make amends,” Cullen said scratching the back of his head.

“And what did you tell him?” Leliana asked.

“I told him, he could serve under my supervision. That I would keep an eye on him.”

“I thought Queen Anora wanted him executed, “Cassandra said.

“Technically no, Astrid asked her to spare his life. Anora made him renounce all of his and his future generations’ claims to the throne, which he did without hesitation. I was at the Landsmeet when he took his oath, ” Leliana said quite assertively. “Having said that, I don’t know if she would keep that promise now that he is back in Ferelden. ”

“Did anyone recognised him?” Cassandra asked.

“I don’t think so. Only Cullen, Myself and Varric really know him. Besides, he has been away from Ferelden for ten years, I doubt people wouldn't recognise him that easily,” Leliana said.

“We better keep it that way. Cullen, you keep an eye on him. See that he doesn't go around getting drunk and claiming the throne of Ferelden,” Cassandra said.

“I just had an idea. Leliana, remember that Cullen had requisitioned a scout to work with him? Assign him the Fex. Cullen, Leliana had requisitioned the same, a soldier to work with her. Actually... wait a minute, why not have them both working together as a team for both of you? Two birds with one stone.” Josephine said.

“You’re a genius, Josie,” Leliana said with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments!!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nimue finally meets Cullen. And Alistair finds out her favourite food.

After the meeting, Cullen was back at his desk glaring, again, at the mountain of paper and parchment.  He understood when he accepted the role of the Commander of the Inquisition that there would be some paperwork involved, but things were getting ridiculous. He was starting to suspect someone was pranking him, the pile had increased in just two hours! He was reading a requisition for weapons when he heard a female voice right outside his tent. She had an accent he could not quite place.

“Commander,  Sister Leliana told me to report to you.”

“Come in,” Cullen said.

She stepped through the tent flap and Cullen’s  breath hitched. He was not expecting what he saw. He felt drawn to her but couldn’t understand why. She was wearing a nug skin scout’s coat and had some interesting daggers with her, the blades were stones rather than the hammered metal. He wet his lips and an involuntary sound that was more animal than human came from him, he tried to disguise it by pretending to cough. _Maker, these curves would make a dead man stir,_ he thought. Cullen realised she was staring at him with a faint smile. He blushed. “Nice to meet you. I didn’t catch your name.”

“It’s Nimue, Commander.”

“Please, call me Cullen. I prefer the people that work closely with me to address me by my name. Leliana told me about you. I thought the Fex were legend, to be honest. I’m sorry if I am staring, it is just that I never met one of your people before” Cullen said shaking his head.

“That is fine.” Nimue said. “I look like your people because my mother was human, I am only half Fex. I am quite different from the rest of my people.”

“Interesting. I would really like to know more about your people. You seem fascinating. How much did Leliana tell you regarding your assignment?” Cullen asked.

“Not much. She said you requested one of her scouts to work with you.”

“You and a soldier, Alistair. You will be reporting directly to Leliana and I. You will be deployed every time we need a small team to carry out tasks that would be impossible for a large contingency.  Also, whenever we think it is necessary, you both will be accompanying the Herald in the field. Maker knows he, and us for that matter, need every help we can get. Especially when he goes off on one of those berserker ramparts…” Cullen said “I also need someone to help me with paperwork. As you can see for yourself, things are getting out of hand. Whenever you are not out in the field, I would like you to meet me here in the mornings to sift through these."

“That shouldn’t be a problem. Since you mentioned that Leliana told you about me, did she mention the deal that I have made with her?”

“Yes, she did.”

Nimue gave him a relieved smile, “That is good, that way you know I will not fail you. I have too much at stake and, more importantly, I gave my word.”

Cullen wondered if this woman in front of him was actually the cunning vixen they portrayed in the war room. “I should introduce you to Alistair, since you will be working together.”

“That wouldn’t be necessary. He is my bunkmate.”

“Oh, is he?”

_____________

Nimue decided to go to the weaponsmith to see if she could get another pair of daggers and maybe some additional gear. She usually didn’t carry much with her, but it wouldn’t hurt to have some extra now that she was working for the Commander. After she was done, she walked in the direction of the lake.

Now that things were falling into place, she was feeling overwhelmed. Everything in this part of the world was just so foreign to her. She had learned about the different cultures of Thedas during her training but the dealings in human society were so different from the Fex. Everybody was guarded, hiding their feelings deep inside. There was no opening up, relying on each other.  People were always saying things they didn’t mean.

There were many nuances she was never taught and she didn’t know what to do. When to look in someone’s eyes, how to bargain without offending. Nimue didn’t know what to say, when to say, or how to say things. She was always afraid she was going to do something wrong or offend someone. The only person that she was comfortable with was Maxwell, but he was the Herald of Andraste and she couldn’t go running to him every single time she had questions.

Why do _they shake hands? Why do Fereldans talk about the weather all the time? Really? How much can they go on about being cold? She thought to herself as she walked toward the frozen expanse_.

Nimue was so lost in thought, she didn’t see Alistair right in front of her and bumped hard into him.

“Andraste’s frilly knickers, Lady!” He said rubbing his shoulder.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

“No? But you were looking right at me!”

“Sorry, I was lost inside my head.”

“Yeah, I do that too sometimes. Not very good when you are near water and have no spare socks.”

“I bet not,” she laughed.

“So, I hear we are working together. Isn’t that exciting?”

“Yes, that will certainly be interesting. I take you have spoken to Cullen?” she asked.

“Yes, I did. He told me about our first assignment with the Herald.  He also told me a little bit more about you. So you come from Par Vollen. You are a Fex. Things make so much sense now!”

“Oh, does it?” Nimue said startled.

“For starts, now I know that I was not going crazy when I thought you were a mage, Dear Lady, and worry not, the secret of who you are and where you came from is safe with me,” Alistair said with a bow.

“Well, it is not really a secret. I mean, unless you are a Ben-Hassarah trying to take me to be converted by a Tamassaran. You are not, are you?”

“No, I can guarantee you. You look tense, what’s the matter?”

“I… So Cullen told you that I am a Fex?”

“Yes, he did. And I think it is great.”

“What do you mean it is great?”

“Come with me, Beautiful Lady. I think this conversation is going to be a bit long and it will be better if we do it sitting down in a warm place, and eating. I am famished.” Alistair grabbed her elbow and started to direct her towards the tavern. They got there and Nimue asked for a glass of white wine and Alistair for a pint of watered down ale, two bowls of the stew and a cheese platter. “Aren’t you going to eat anything? You should try the cheese…”

“I am not hungry. Why do you eat so much?”

Alistair laughed, “okay, back to your question. Why I think it is great that you are a Fex. Well, you are different, and I think it is exciting that you are different. And I do know more words than just ‘different’.  What I mean is, I guess, you will keep me on my toes, and Maker knows I need someone to do that for me.”

“Well, it will certainly be a  _different_ experience for me too.”

“You mock me, Dear Lady,” Alistair said with a half smile.

Their order came and Nimue took a sip of her wine looking at Alistair.   _Maybe I was a bit too quick to doubt him. He seems genuinely glad that we are working together ,_ she thought as she looked over the rim of her glass at him.

Alistair looked straight back at her and for a moment the conversation fell in an awkward silence. Nimue felt her cheeks blush.

“So, you know, now that we are working together we should know more about each other. As you know, I am Alistair. I have an unholy love of fine cheeses and a mild obsession with my hair. I am also a former Grey Warden, not that is important but I guess you should know. That is why I eat so much. Warden metabolism. How about you? Besides being a Fex and being very observant, what else can you tell me about you?”

“What do you mean by observant?”

“Oh yes, I had forgotten! Also very defensive and evasive!”

“I am not defensive. I don’t think I am, anyway. I think it is because I ask questions when I don’t understand things.”

“See?” Alistair said laughing. “You are doing it again, avoiding my questions.”

“I am not!” Nimue said laughed and ordered another glass of wine.

“Lady, you seem to be very fond of wine. You should ease off a bit.”

“But it is so good! I’ve never had it before. The dwarf, Varric, gave me some. He said ‘Shorty, you look like you need it’,” Nimue said trying to imitate Varric. “I don’t know why he called me Shorty though, I am taller than he is!” Nimue was already a bit tipsy.

Alistair chuckled, “So, Nimue, I’ll asks the questions now. And no evading!”

“Yes, Sir!” Nimue said with a salute.

“Favourite food.”

“Prawns in garlic and herbs sauce.”

“Okay, so tell me your story.”

Nimue told him everything. Why she was there, about her abilities and, even about her focusing and how her magic works.

“So, let me get this straight, you are a spy?” Alistair asked.

“No, not really. I was being taught to be one but I never finished my training. I was still a few years away from being a fully fledged spy when my Chieftain sent me here.”

“Because you look like us...” Alistair interrupted Nimue.

“Exactly. But I don’t think I was the best qualified for the job. I mean, I am very good with the fighting and the ‘rogue’ stuff, but when it comes to dealing with people, I am at a loss. I am always afraid of sticking my foot in my mouth,” Nimue said looking a bit exasperated.

Alistair laughed, “Oh, Pretty Lady, do not be afraid of that. You are much better at it than me! I live with my foot in my mouth! At any rate, it's getting late. We should go to bed, we leave early tomorrow.”

They left for their tent. After a short walk Nimue turned to Alistair.

“You go ahead. I’ll meet you in the tent.”

“Hey, are you going to start to be secretive again?”

“No, I just want to go and… Alistair, I need to pee, okay?”

“Oh… Sorry...yes… go… Don’t forget to wash your hands.”

“Alistair!”

When Nimue returned to the tent, Alistair had his back turned to the entrance. Without his shirt on, she could see all the well-defined muscles on his back. He had his breeches just hanging from his hips, and she could see the top of his butt. Nimue realised he was about to take his breeches off to go to sleep.

“Is this your cunning plan to see me naked?” Alistair asked looking over his shoulder, in a low husky voice with just enough sarcasm.

Nimue felt herself blushing, and she couldn’t think straight. Her eyes were stuck on his ass.

“No, not at all,” she answered trying not to meet his eyes.

“No? Shame…”

She went to her cot and pulled the covers over her head, trying to disappear.

“You are a very odd woman, Nimue.”

“What? Why?”

“You are going to sleep with your boots on,” Alistair said.

Nimue sat up, took off her boots and threw them on the floor with a hard thump. She laid down covering herself again.

“Good night, Nimue. Sweet dreams, Pretty Lady,” Alistair said with a chuckle.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nimue and Alistair bathe in the lake - Slightly NSFW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I would like to thank Aubreyella, Robotichawk. And please check RabidTanuki's awesome art at http://rabidtanuki.tumblr.com/post/123409981881/for-quid-pro-quo-by-gabtinha-chapter-3-nimue-and

Nimue and Alistair left before dawn. Alistair noticed that it was warmer than usual for that time of the year. Good, Nimue will be warmer today. The poor thing is always shivering. She does not handle the cold well, that one, he thought to himself.

 

They travelled most of the way in silence, but Alistair caught Nimue eyeing him a couple of times. He didn’t want to admit too loudly that he liked the attention. Despite having met less than two weeks ago, he was beginning to really enjoy the companionship they were developing. Alistair already knew he was hopelessly attracted to her. _Andrate's sagging tits, what am I waiting for? It is not as if I have anything holding me back. I am not a Chantry boy anymore. She is right there, and if she is game to have some good fun while on the road, this whole thing will be much more pleasant, specially during the nights_ _._ He didn’t want to become too attached, though. He was not looking for a bride. Besides, things could end badly for them both, the sky was ripped up, demons were raining down everywhere, and mages and templars are killing everything in sight. That didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy themselves in the mean time.

 

“I take you didn’t enjoy your time with the Templars, Alistair,” Nimue’s voice startled him out of his reverie.

 

“No, I didn’t at all,” Alistair answered Nimue, trying to dismiss the conversation.

 

“Don’t get me wrong, but that doesn’t that mean you failed your education?”

 

“I didn’t fail. I was recruited to the Grey Wardens.”

 

“And what if you hadn’t been recruited? What would have happened instead?”

 

“I would have turned into a lunatic, slaughtered the Grand Cleric and run around the streets of Denerim in my small clothes, I guess.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Pretty Lady, sometimes I forget you are not from here. Such a waste of an excellent witty comment! The Chantry keeps a close reign on its Templars. They are given Lyrium to enhance their powers, which means they become addicted. Since the Chantry controls the Lyrium trade with the Dwarves, I am sure you can put two and two together. You don’t need Lyrium in order to learn the Templars talents. Lyrium just make templars more effective, or so I was told. Maybe it doesn’t even do that.”

 

“So, does that happen to all Templars?”

 

“Eventually, especially if you are pretty dedicated to the order…”

 

“So, Cullen was not that dedicated?”

 

“What do you mean? He used to be the prime example of a Templar.”

 

“But he is not crazy…”

 

“How do you know for sure?” Alistair said raising one of his eyebrows.

 

They arrived at The Crossroads late in the afternoon. It had always been a peaceful village until the Mages and Templars started fighting each other. The situation was quite challenging now that the village was a shelter for refugees of war.

 

“Look at that! Poor slobs. This thing between Mages and Templars is so excessive! You would think they would at least have the decency of not messing with ordinary people,” Alistair said.

 

They found Maxwell working on setting up tents for the homeless refugees while having a heated discussion with his companions.

 

“Cassandra, I doona fucking care if ye are the Queen of Ferelden! I am not leaving here before I see that all these people at least have a proper shelter. Ye hear me?”  

 

“Herald! This is madness! We are needed back! Mother Giselle needs to be escorted.”

 

“Are you deaf, wench? No fucking chance! Do ye want me to bloody spell it?”

 

“Argh, useless!” Cassandra left furious, stomping her feet.

 

“And ye, Solas! Less dreaming and more working, aye? The healer in that hut can use some help!”

 

“Max,” Nimue called.

 

“Nim, Mo Bradach! I thought ye’d never arrive! I missed you,” Maxwell said dropping the tent pegs he had in his hand and running towards Nimue, grabbing her tight in a hug and smacking a loud kiss on her cheek.

 

Alistair cleared his throat, “Herald, I take things here are complicated.”

 

“Bloody oath, they are! Mages and Templars are indiscriminately fucking up the refugees and killing everything that moves, people are also in need of food and shelter. I am going to put you in charge of that. I need to go back to Haven or the wench over there will burst,” Maxwell said looking at Cassandra. “Leliana also sent a crow. Seriously, that harpy has psychic powers or something! Anyway, she wants ye both to meet this Grey Warden, Blackwall, have a ‘touchy-feely’ with the man to try to sort out why Wardens are disappearing. She thinks Alistair will be able to reach him or something. At any rate, ye better get a meal in your bellies and a good night's sleep, I want ye both to start early tomorrow. Ye can find a place to put up yer tent near the lake. Ye’ll not need to share patrol tonight, the roster is already set and I like to see Cassandra suffer in silence. Oh, and Bradacha, ye might want to put an extra layer on, it get fucking cold during the night,” Maxwell said.

 

“Max, if it gets any more _fucking_ cold, I’ll cry!” Nimue grumbled as they made their way to the lake.

 

“If you put up the tents, I’ll cook dinner,” Alistair said when they got to their campsite. “I have something special I’d like you to try.”

________

“What was this soup you made for supper?” Nimue said breaking the silence.

 

“Oh, this one? That is a traditional Ferelden pea and lamb stew,” Alistair said proudly “Did you like it?”

 

“Oh… so… it was lamb then…. It has a certain texture that I don’t normally associate with lamb.”

 

“Your people don’t make pea and lamb stew?” Alistair asked surprised.

 

“Not really. Our lamb is mostly roasted with seasoning and when it is ready it still resembles meat. My people eat differently, we use more spices and the food has more colour. We rarely eat heavy stews.”

 

“Ah, so your food is more to the Orlesian style. Food shouldn’t be pretentious like that. Now here in Ferelden we do things right. We take our ingredients, throw in the largest pot we can find and cook for as long as possible until everything is a uniform grey colour. As soon as it looks completely bland and unappetising, that is when we know it is done.”

 

“You are having me on.”

 

“You need to eat in more Ferelden inns, Pretty Lady.”

 

“Now, I am scared. I think I will make breakfast tomorrow,” Nimue said standing up. “I am going to get ready for bed.”

 

While Nimue was away, Alistair quickly went inside the tent and re-arranged the bedding, putting the bedrolls side by side and closer to each other. He sat down and was removing his boots when she returned. Barely a foot from the cots, Nimue stopped abruptly and stared at the bedding lay out. It took her sleepy mind a minute to process what she saw.

 

“Now, Dear Lady, why are looking at me like I am a poisonous giant spider ready to strike? Come lay down. Like the Herald said it will be a very cold night,” Alistair said patting the bedroll next to him and smirking. “It will be warmer for us if we sleep side by side.”

 

There was no arguing with that. After a great deal of fidgeting and arranging, Nimue settled down.

 

“Are we done?”

 

“Yes,” Nimue said.

 

“Good night then, My Lady,” Alistair said bending over and kissing Nimue on the cheek.

____________

Nimue was awakened by Alistair tossing, turning and mumbling words she couldn’t understand. Obviously, he was having a nightmare and she had no idea how to deal with it. She touched his shoulder and tried to wake him up but that only seemed to aggravate the situation. Suddenly he grabbed her in an embrace that she couldn’t get away from. The more she tried to wiggle free, the stronger his grip on her grew. After some struggle she decided that was useless to fight and gave up. That seemed to have made Alistair calm down.

________

_Alistair was running. He was gasping for air and with each breath he could feel pain that pierced his lungs. He pushed himself to run faster but the darkspawn kept coming closer to him. Somehow, he knew that it would never stop hunting him. He was just about to collapse from exhaustion when someone, tall and faceless took him by the hand and led him towards a forest covered in snow. There he was safe from the darkspawn. Peace settled around and he could finally sleep._

 

He woke in the middle of the night feeling safe and warm. That was not how he usually woke up after having one of his dreadful nightmares. Last time he had one so intense was during the Blight, but there was no archdemon in his dream, no dragon, not even a little dragonling for that matter. Only one darkspawn... _Is this the calling? I have been listening to a lingering song in my head lately, but I don't feel compelled in following it. Not yet, anyway, maybe this is just the beginning._

 

He tried to turn on his side but he felt something heavy on his chest. That was when he realised Nimue had her head resting on his chest with an arm and a leg cast over him. The intimate position of their bodies was undeniable, but he decided not to disentangle. He felt extraordinarily comfortable, so he stayed, savouring the moment until he felt back to sleep.

_________

When Nimue woke up early the next morning, Alistair was still sleeping, he no longer had a death grip on her, so she decided to get up. Sniffing herself, she decided that she needed a bath. She missed the bathhouse in her village, people from the south didn't clean themselves as much as they should. Everywhere she went, there was always a lingering reek of body odour mixed with what could only be described as a pungent wet dog smell. When she arrived at the lake she undressed herself, keeping her braies, breast bands and undershirt on. She dove in as quickly as she could, scared of the temperature change, but the water was surprisingly refreshing. She swam around a couple of times, but when she came closer to the edge she saw Alistair coming towards the lake while undressing. "Do you mind if I join?"

 

"It is a big lake, I am sure we can both fit," Nimue said smiling.

 

Nimue swam from the edge to the middle of the lake and looked at Alistair; he was wearing only his loincloth and his tanned skin made the muscles in his body to stand out.

 

"Did I scare you last night, Pretty Lady?"

 

"You mean you don't remember?" Nimue asked.

 

"Some of it. I know I had a bad dream."

 

"Bad dream? You had a full blown nightmare, from what I can tell. I tried to wake you up but that seemed to make things worse. You grabbed me and wouldn't let go!"

 

"So it was one of my special nightmares."

 

"What do you mean by ‘special nightmares?’”

 

“Well, there is the ‘I am naked, juggling balls in front of a crowd nightmare’, normal stuff, you know? And there is the one that scares the Maker’s breath out of your soul type, I call these special nightmares.”

 

“Did some something scare you?”

 

“No. These nightmares start when you become a Grey Warden and don’t leave you even if you abandon the order, as I did. You know, I tried to keep some of my oaths to the Wardens but that never got me anywhere. I guess it won’t hurt if I tell you. Wardens are able to hear the darkspawn, they are also able to hear when the archdemon talks to the horde. Last night, I dreamt about the darkspawn. It was the same dream that I used to have during the blight minus the archdemon. No dragon in my dream, which was very weird,” Alistair said coming closer to Nimue. “It was a very strange dream.”

 

“Does that mean there is a Blight coming?” Nimue asked.

 

“I don’t know. I surely hope not, but I don’t want to think about that right now,” Alistair said grabbing a lock of Nimue’s hair and playing with it between his fingers. “What I want is to thank you for putting up with my crazy dreams last night. I am sure it was not a good way to impress you, my Pretty Lady. I can think of much better ways to do that." He was so close to Nimue now that she could recognise his scent-  a combination of leather and cloves. He took her hand in his and brushed a kiss over her knuckles, “I mean what I said. You are an amazing woman.”

 _Thanking or impressing me? Don’t be stupid Nimue, of course he is thanking you. I’m sure he jests about the rest,_ she thought.

 

Nimue took a deep breath, she was about to say something to Alistair when she heard him groan. A mixture of shock and pleasure came through her when he suddenly pulled her into his arms.

 

“You smell like roses, my favourite flower,” Alistair said brushing his lips over her cheek. She trembled and turned her head slightly, only to touch her lips against his. Alistair wrapped his arms around her tighter. He made an odd, strangled noise and lowered his mouth to hers. He nudged her lips with his tongue and that was all that Nimue needed to open her mouth. The way that his tongue stroked hers left her breathless. Alistair deepened the kiss, teasing her even more.

 

When he pulled his mouth from hers, she clutched at him and muttered a protest in her native language, that was when he touched a kiss to the side of her neck. Nimue couldn’t help but moan loudly with pleasure as he covered her throat with kisses. She tilted her head back and pressed closer to him. His lips touched the pulse point in her throat and she gasped as she felt her heat increase. He caressed her back, down her sides and grabbed her ass tight, almost squeezing her against him. Nimue felt herself groan when she felt his hard cock against her. Instinctively, she rubbed against him, savouring the way it made her feel. Alistair shuddered.

 

They were both breathless when Alistair moved away nipping one last time at Nimue’s full lower lip. “Your lips taste like honey, so sweet that I might become addicted, Pretty Lady. But, alas, we better stop now otherwise people here might see us.”

  
With that, Alistair turned and swam away from Nimue not noticing when she dipped under the water to cool off.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blackwall joins the Inquisition

_Horses, Praise the Maker for Horses! I am getting too old to do all this travelling on foot_ _!_ Alistair thought while he and Nimue were making their way to meet Blackwall. He looked at Nimue, since their kiss he decided to let things cool down a little, at least until he digested what had happened. He was not expecting his body to respond to a simple kiss like it did. Having her against him caused a feeling he never experienced before. It was like a bolt of lightning had struck the core of his soul. He could not stop thinking about how good she tasted and how perfectly she fit in his arms. He had bedded sleek and worldly people with cynical and unattached hearts. They were the ones a man could fuck and leave with no trouble in the morning, no worse for the wear for both parties.

However, he knew things were different with Nimue. In many ways she was very similar to Astrid, the Hero of Ferelden. Both women were strong, proud and intelligent. He knew that Nimue was the kind of a woman a man kept. That confused (and scared) the shit out of him. He was sure that he wasn’t the kind of man that a woman wanted to keep. He had made too many mistakes - had too much to atone.

  
They traveled for days, helping the villagers along the way. Alistair was impressed with Nimue’s skills. She managed to track down a large group of ram and slaughter them almost single handed. They gave the carcasses to the refugees, so that they would have enough food until provisions from Haven arrived. They also located some caches that belonged to Apostate Mages which contained much needed blankets and material people could use to fight the bitter cold. Nimue always made an effort to stop for every single person on the road that looked in need of help. Alistair tried to tell her more than once they could not afford so many distractions from their main goal but she didn't listen to him. “People in need are not distractions, Alistair. They are the reason why I am doing this. Refusing to help them, or ignoring their struggles, would go against my nature. I know I should be putting the mission above all else, but I simply cannot let them go without aid. Besides, isn't helping people what the Inquisition is all about?"   
  
Alistair saw Nimue’s fighting abilities in full while helping a needy villager. It happened when they approached a run down hut and a middle-aged elven woman rushed through the door pointing a bow at them, “One more step and I’ll shoot,” she said.  She was a small-framed woman even for elven standards, with black hair and angry green eyes. “We mean you no harm, we are with the Inquisition, just passing through,” Nimue said.   
  
“Inquisition? I hear you have been helping people around here. Where were you when the Templars killed my husband?"   
  
“Templars killed your husband?” Alistair sounded surprised.   
  
“Aye. He was digging out a tree stump, and the fools could not tell a shovel from Mage’s staff. Had to be safe they said, rebels everywhere attacking by surprise. Sick bastards, they took the ring I gave him on our wedding day in case it was magic.”   
  
“Where did they go?" Nimue asked, clearly upset from what the woman had just told them.   
  
“They went east.”   
  
“Are those your husband’s?” Nimue asked pointing to a pair of shoes near the entrance of the hut. “If you let me touch your husband’s shoes, I can focus my mana and locate anything he wore within a certain distance.”   
  
“Aye, do that then. I don’t care if you use magic or not.”   
  
Nimue touched the shoes and her eyes turned purple briefly. The woman gasped in fright. “Ahm, Pretty Lady, I think you are scaring the woman over here…” Alistair said. 

“I know where they are,”  she said already making her way back to her horse. “You can come with me or wait here, Alistair.”  
  
“Do I have a choice?" he asked, Nimue simply raised one eyebrow at him. "Why are you doing this, Nimue?”   
  
“Why you ask? Isn’t it obvious? Because she gave him a ring. I know it might not be the same here in the south, but for my people giving a ring to someone is the the highest demonstration of love one can ever receive. It means that you have formed an unbreakable bond, that you have given yourself completely to another. A Fex would die if they lost their love’s ring. So, I am getting it back for her.”

“A bit of  weird logic, but I guess I can see your point. Lead the way.”

Nimue made her way to her horse and exchanged her steel daggers with the flint ones. _Maker's cock, she means business I never saw her using those before!_ Alistair thought.   
  
“We better go on foot. They would be able to see the horses coming from a distance, and we’d lose the element of surprise. I've tracked them. They are close by, near a mountain surrounded by ruins."   
  
The pair moved swiftly and arrived at the Templar camp in less than fifteen minutes. From up the hill they saw a group of men sitting around a bonfire.   
  
"Alistair, I will flank them from the left. You face them head on," Nimue whispered.   
  
"Really?! Just head on? That is your strategy? I mean, I know I can handle myself in a fight but I don't know what you can do, Pretty Lady, and until I see you in the field I don't like this plan one bit."     
  
"If you ever see me, I shouldn't be fighting in the first place. You won't see me unless I am gravely wounded, which I do not plan to be. Just fucking distract them, Alistair. You will not die today," Nimue said  and completely disappeared in front of Alistair.   
  
Seeing how Nimue disappeared left Alistair speechless. _That is just not right. How can someone do that?_ He was also left with no choice but to do what she told him. Nimue was nowhere to be seen. Alistair drew his sword and charged down the hill. By the time he reached the bottom he had lost track of where Nimue could possibly be.   _Andraste's crooked tooth! I hope she is nearby, otherwise I have just signed my death sentence!_ He jumped in front of the Templars and roared, to grab their attention. For a moment the Templars hesitated, confused. But that didn't last long. They stood up, grabbed their weapons and ran straight towards him.   
  
What happened next puzzled Alistair. While he was getting ready to engage the men, the Templar  at the back  fell with his throat sliced open. Alistair shook his head, not believing what he had just seen. That was when he saw the stab wounds on the back of the second man while he was falling on the ground. When he finally managed to properly engage in the fight, the Templar to his left was slashed from one side of his belly to the other, with his innards falling unceremoniously on the ground. Alistair looked at the dirt and could not see footprints. _It is like she doesn't even exist!_ He thought astonished.   He missed how the man he was fighting died, only that he fell on his face, and twitched violently.   
  
"Alistair, check if they have anything useful in their camp or on their persons. I'll look for the ring," Nimue said reappearing. The ring was in a pouch on the waist of the first slaughtered Templar. Nimue put the ring in her pocket making sure it was safe. “If you are done, let’s head back to the woman’s house.”   
They arrived back to the widow in no time. She gobsmacked when Nimue handed her the ring."Praise you and the Inquisition for giving my husband justice. It won't bring him back but his spirit will rest easier now, as will mine."   
________________ 

Soon after they were back on the road. After a couple of hours later they reached a plateau where they found a cabin near a lake.   
  
"From what the woman said, Warden Blackwall's place should be around here somewhere," Alistair said.   
  
"Good, that means we will be back on the road in no time," Nimue replied.   
  
"Back with the Templars, I have fought with rogues before, but you... You are nothing like what I've seen before. You disappeared! Your cuts were so precise it baffled me. And the way you killed those men… So cold and detached."   
  
"They took the ring," Nimue said curtly.   
  
""Yes, but, You didn't need me, did you? You could have killed those men all by yourself, right?"   
  
"I fight better backstabbing. You were the diversion that I needed."   
  
"I feel so precious right now!" Alistair said in his sarcastic tone. "Anyhow, we can talk about it later. Look over there. It seems we found our Warden, and it appears that he is in trouble, of course," Alistair said rolling his eyes.   
  
"Yeah, looks like it," Nimue said entering stealth.   
  
"And I was hoping for a nice cup of tea," Alistair grumbled.   
  
The fight was easy and ended quickly, the bandits never stood a chance against the three of them.   
  
“Sorry bastards,” a short man with a thick black beard said. Then he turned and addressed the group of farmers standing behind him. "Good work conscripts; you lived. This shouldn’t have happened. Thieves are made, not born. Take back what they stole and go back to your families   
  
“He is releasing conscripts. That is really weird, I never heard of a Grey Warden releasing conscripts,” Alistair whispered to Nimue.   
  
"Warden Blackwall?" Alistair asked.   
  
“Now, you! You are no farmer! Who are you? How do you know my name? What are you doing here?” Blackwall said looking at Alistair and Nimue.   
  
“My name is Alistair, this is Nimue. We know your name because we are agents with the Inquisition. We are investigating whether the disappearance of the Wardens has anything to do with the murder of the Divine.”   
  
“Maker’s balls! Who? Wardens and the Divine? That can’t.... No Warden would ever do that! Our purpose isn’t political,” Blackwall said.   
  
“Not so sure about that...” Alistair mumbled more to himself than anyone else.   
  
“So, where is the rest of your order?” Nimue asked.   
  
“I don’t know.  I am a recruiter. I work alone. I haven’t seen the Wardens in months,” Blackwall replied.   
  
“Do you have any idea where they could have gone?” Alistair asked.

“Maybe they returned to their stronghold in the Anderfels. I don’t really know. I can’t imagine why they would disappear all at once, let alone as to where they would go.”

“Why didn’t they tell you anything?” Nimue asked.

“Well, they are not famous for being the best communicators,” Alistair replied.

“Pretty much what the lad said,” Blackwall chuckled.

“Well, that doesn’t help much, does it?” Nimue said as she turned around and started to walk away.

“Inquisition! Agents, did you say? Hold a moment! Look the Divine is dead, the sky is torn... If you are trying to put things right maybe you need a Warden,” Blackwall said.

“The inquisition needs all the support it can get. But you are just one person. What can you do?” Nimue said turning back around to face him.

“Save the fucking world, if pressed,” Blackwall replied.

“I guess that is good enough. Warden Blackwall, the Inquisition accepts your offer,” Alistair said.

“Good to hear,” Blackwall replied.

“Pick your stuff, Blackwall. We leave now,”Nimue said.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen is not feeling his best, Nimue meets some new friends and Alistair is late for a game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW. I updated the rating for this fic because things are going to get steamier pretty soon.
> 
> Writing this fic allowed me to meet some awesome people that otherwise I probably wouldn't have met! So, again I want to send all my gratitude and love to Aubreyella, Robotichawk and Kitty_Drakeheart, you guys are awesome!!! I also want to thank for the comments and kudos, I cherish every one of them!!!!

Commander Cullen Rutherford’s head was thumping. He could feel his legs shaking violently while he laid in his cot. He sincerely hoped that nobody came in needing his attention, He wouldn’t be able to string two cohesive sentences together if his life depended on it. He hoped his legs held up as he moved to stand. They didn’t and he fell to the floor in a heap. He army crawled slowly toward his desk and it took nearly all his strength to haul himself into his chair and slump over his desk. _Soldier on, isn’t that the saying? Very ironic,_ he thought as he reached for an elfroot potion out of the wooden box in his desk drawer. He realised that it was his last phial and he groaned at the thought of having to ask Cassandra for more. He didn’t want the Seeker to believe he was struggling or weak.

When Cullen finally managed to exit his tent the sun was already up and his recruits already well into their training exercises.“You there! There’s a shield in your hand, block with it!” Cullen hollered and looked to the officer next to him.  
“Lieutenant, don’t hold back. The recruits must prepare for a real fight, not a practice one.”

“Good morning, Commander,” Nimue’s voice startled him.

“Nimue, I didn’t hear you approaching,” Cullen said, a bit frustrated to be caught off guard. If she could creep up on him like that what else could she do? “I didn’t know you and Alistair had returned.”

“We arrived late last night with Warden Blackwall.”

“I take it that you had an uneventful journey, for that I thank the Maker. I read the reports. The help you and Alistair provided to the people in the Hinterlands will help to strengthen our position even further.”

Cullen started to make his way through the troops, “Please walk with me. Nimue, I know you travelled some distance to reach Haven. I know why you came, but do you really understand what is happening?”

“I would like to believe that I do. There is the war between Mages and Templars and the Temple of Sacred Ashes was destroyed. There is a giant hole in the sky that spits out demons.”

“Which is why we are needed. The Chantry is not in control anymore, they argue while the breach remains. The Inquisition can act while the Chantry cannot. Our followers will be part of that. There is so much… Forgive me, I doubt you came here for a lecture.”

“No, but if you have one prepared, I’ll be happy to hear it,” Nimue said with a grin.

“Another time, perhaps,” Cullen said smiling back at her. He coughed and stammered, “I...a… still a lot of work ahead,” while rubbing the back of his neck.

Nimue realised he did that every time he was nervous or a bit embarrassed. “I am sure there is.”

“Anyway, as I was saying, I read the reports and the help you and Alistair provided is really appreciated. While you two were away, the Herald visited Val Royeaux to see if we could engage in talks with what remained of the clergy. The talks did go as planned so he had to travel to Redcliffe to seek the help of the Mages for closing the breach."

“You people should have learned by now that sending Max to ‘talk’ to anyone will only result in disaster.”

“I didn’t know you were in a first name basis with the Herald.” Cullen was jealous, and that realisation hit him like a punch in the stomach. Once again he started to nervously rub the back of his neck and tried to avoid eye contact with her.

“We have had some good talks. He has become a good friend. Did I do something wrong? Is it forbidden to talk to him? Is that some sort of a taboo?” Nimue asked looking  quite concerned.

“No, not at all. I just find it surprising.  At any rate, I want a full report of the whole episode with Blackwall. Also, since you are back in Haven, I expect you to join me in the mornings to help me with paperwork. That reminds me, Leliana mentioned wanting to talk to you as soon as you arrived. I believe she is in her tent right now,” Cullen said as he tried to sound professional. He was embarrassed that he had lost his composure so easily around her.

“Thank you, Cullen. I shall meet her straight away.”

____

When Nimue arrived in Leliana’s tent she was already engaged with Pellane. Nimue, not wanting to interrupt the conversation just leaned against one of the tent’s pole waiting to be noticed.

“There are so many questions surrounding Farria’s death. Did he think we wouldn’t notice?” Both Leliana and Pellane were bending over a map. “He killed one of my best agents and knows where the other ones are. You know what needs to be done, yes? Make it clean and painless, if you can. We were friends once.” Leliana looked up and finally noticed her. “Thank you, Pellane, that would be all.”

“Don’t judge me, Fex. You have no idea what it’s like to walk in my shoes,” Leliana said without turning to Nimue.

“And I hope I’ll never have to,” Nimue said approaching Leliana.

Leliana looked back at Nimue with a scowl, “You were not called here to discuss my decisions.”

“I never thought to say otherwise. Why did you invite me here?”

“I _summoned_ you here to inform you about some developments that happened while you were away. I believe Cullen told you about the Herald travelling to Redcliffe to talk to the Mages, yes?”

“Yes, he did.”

“Did he mention about the people who joined us?”

“No, he didn’t.”

“Oh, so slack of our Commander,” Leliana giggled. Nimue had to contain her gasp, Leliana’s mood swing was so abrupt that it left Nimue wondering if she missed a joke lost in translation. “Well, there is Sera, a very good archer. First Enchanter Vivienne and a group of mercenaries, The Bull’s Chargers. I believe they will be of  interest to you, especially their leader, The Iron Bull.”

“And why would that be?”

“Oh, he is also from Par Vollen,” Leliana said nonchalantly.

“He is a Qunari. Is that what you mean?” Nimue felt like someone had punched her.

“Yes, he is a Qunari. Is there a problem?”

Nimue stopped with her mouth ajar. She tried to say something but the sound didn’t come out. _Is Leliana so obtuse to think that I wouldn’t have a problem with a Qunari?_ Nimue felt the anger spreading. _I must look like the dumbest person in the whole of Southern Thedas. She wants me to create a big scene about the Qunari! But why? Does she want to get rid of me without having to fulfil her end of the bargain? Of course she would do that. The Qunari comes with an entire squad of mercenaries, much more valuable for the Inquisition. Oh, Sister, that is petty, but I am not that dumb._

“Of course it is not a problem. We are all working towards the same goal. If you have nothing else, I will take my leave,” she said politely as she turned and left the tent without waiting for Leliana’s reply.

__

Nimue was numb, lost. She didn’t know what to do- a Qunari. She was taught since early childhood the Qunari were dangerous and nobody was ever to approach them. Even the Fex warriors that were a force to behold avoided contact with Qunari at all costs. Raios, her brother, was the only one that didn’t listen. Since his childhood he seemed fascinated by the horned beasts. Nimue was the only one that knew about his fascination. It was not a surprise when he fell in love with one of them. The day he got home and pulled a dragon’s tooth severed in half to show to her was still fresh in her memory, “ _This one is different, Nim_. Trust me!” If Raios was right, he probably found the only good Qunari in the whole world. _I hope Raios' Qunari is exception that proves the rule._ Nimue saw the horns from the distance. They were the biggest ones that she had ever seen in her life. Without even thinking she entered stealth and went to his tent.

______

The Iron Bull was inside his tent when he felt a faint breeze on the back of his neck. A few things came to his mind; it was cold; what the fuck was a Basfaran doing there and where the hell was his knife.  When he felt the dagger against his throat, he was impressed. _This one is good. A bit hasty with the movements, but very fast. This aparição shows promise,_ he thought.

“A movement and I’ll slice your throat, dog,” a female voice whispered against his ear.

“Already with the pet names and I didn’t even get to buy you dinner.” He felt the dagger tighten against his throat, it broke his skin and he could feel drops of blood rolling down his throat.

“What are you doing here? Who sent you? What do you want?” The voice sounded louder this time.

“Calm down Basfaran, I am not here for you. I couldn’t give a rat's ass what you are doing here. I have no quarrel with you, nor do I want any.”

“Is that so?” Nimue tightened the daggers.

“Look down. If I wanted you dead you would already be gone.” Nimue looked down and saw that The Iron Bull was holding a knife against her belly even with his back to her. She lowered her dagger, and the Qunari did the same. “The name is The Iron Bull. I am the chief of the mercenary company, The Bull’s Chargers, and you have my word that your presence will not be mentioned in any of the reports that I send back to Par Vollen.”

“Ben-Hassrath?” Nimue said, more a statement than a question.

“Yes.”

“ _Porra,_ ” She swore and disappeared again.

____

It was just too much. She simply could not handle it anymore. Nimue started to run, not even bothering to keep her stealth up. She didn’t know what to think about everything that happened: Alistair, Qunari, Ben-Hassrath, Leliana… _Fuck._

She made her way towards the abandoned hut she knew was on the other side of the lake. She ran without noticing what was around her. She didn’t realise when she ran through the middle of the troops that they were finishing their training exercises. She didn’t hear Cullen call her name.

She only stopped when she got to the hut. She leaned against a tree near the entrance and vomited.

“Nimue, are you all right? Oh Maker, you are ill! Let me take you to the healer right now.” Nimue heard Cullen’s voice right behind her.

“I don’t need a healer.”

“You just brought up your entire breakfast,” Cullen said very matter-of-factly.

“I am _not_ ill.”

“What is it then?” Cullen asked moving closer to her.

“Everything. Everything...” Nimue started sobbing profusely, tears falling down her eyes. Unexpectedly, Nimue pulled Cullen into an embrace. He stiffened his body at first without knowing where to put his hand, he settled for her shoulders. When Nimue felt his hands on her shoulder she lowered her head on his cloak.  Cullen only released her when she stopped sobbing.

Nimue turned her back to Cullen and started talking, “My mother was a mage from the Free Marshes. She from was Rivain. Her family ran away from there to escape the Qunari persecution. According to my father her greatest fear was to be turned into a Sareebas. She ended up in the Circle of Ostwick.  The circle sent her to study healing herbs in Par Vollen, and her expedition was attacked by a group of Tal-Vashoth. A group of our warriors saved her but the rest of her expedition was killed. My father was the one of the very few that could  communicate with her in the beginning. She died giving birth to my brother, Raios.” Cullen noticed that Nimue seemed detached, like she was telling someone else’s story.

“The first time I saw the Qunari was during my mother’s mourning rituals, we were lucky that everybody’s mana was full for the ritual so the entire village could run and escape. My mother’s body was left behind. The Qunari used it as a warning of what would happen to us if we didn’t convert to the Qun.  We never found her hands and her feet. From that day on, they raided our village mercilessly. They couldn’t understand that for a Fex it doesn’t make sense to convert to a religion because we believe in all religions. We were hunted and killed like animals. We had to go into hiding and eventually they desisted. However they forced us into a ‘peace treaty’ that was more like agreed slavery. If we don’t move South we don’t know what will become of us. That is why I have been sent here, as you know. Today Leliana told me that a Qunari joined the Inquisition.”

“The Iron Bull,” Cullen said as coming into a realisation.  “I didn’t know about the tension between Fex and the Qunari.”

“Few people do. Few people know that we even still exist. You thought we were just a legend. We don’t have a large population, Commander.”

“Nimue, I don’t think Maxwell would do anything to put you or your people in danger. He he means well.”

“I know, I trust him with my life. I never had such a good friend, he is like a brother to me.”

“Does he know about your people and the Qunari?”

“Yes.”

“I am sure he had his reasons. Talk to him.”

“I will... I just...”

“Yes? What is it?”

“It is that most of the time, I have so many questions and Maxwell is not always here to answer them.”

“You can ask me whenever he is not here and I will do my best to answer you. Now come, I am going to take you to your tent.”

___________

After the conversation with Nimue, Cullen made sure to leave Nimue in the care of Alistair with strict instructions for her to not be left alone, and he made his way back to his own tent.  When he arrived, Rylen was already there waiting for him. Cullen was not in the mood for a long meeting, as he needed to digest everything that had just happened. Thankfully, the Knight-Captain didn’t have much to discuss, and he left quickly.

Cullen sat back in his chair. He was now sure that Nimue was not the conniving person that Leliana tried to portray every time her name was mentioned in the war room. Maxwell had even threatened to punch her in the face if she continued to bad mouthing Nimue. And why didn’t she give Nimue the letter Maxwell had left for her? He expressly asked Leliana to give it to her as soon as she arrived from the Hinterlands. _It will save a lot of fucking grief!_ His exact words. Cullen did think it was a love letter at the time, and besides a bout of jealousy he didn’t think more of it, but now he was sure it was a warning or even an explanation why he had recruited the Bull. _Why is Leliana doing this? Maker preserve me! When the Herald hears what happened, I don’t know if I will be able to vouch for Leliana’s life! And that will be another reason for making him even less willing. The man was reluctant to participate on a good day. And now this!_ That was when Cullen started to feel his head thumping again.

_________________

When Nimue got to her tent, Alistair was sitting outside it cleaning his shield. Cullen gently pushed her towards the tent. “Go, lie down and rest. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. I need to talk to Alistair.”

Nimue got into the tent and just launched herself onto the cot, and before her head even reached the pillow she was already sleeping. She didn’t know how long she slept, but she woke up to Alistair’s voice.

“Hey Pretty Lady, wake up. I got something for you.”

Nimue opened her eyes to see Alistair hovering over her carrying a tray. “So, I thought I’d bring you some food. I promise you I haven’t cooked anything that is in here, so you are safe.”

Nimue smiled, “Thank you, Alistair, but I am not hungry.”

“Well, you might not be hungry, but I pulled some pretty heavy strings to get this stuff. I even traded in my breeches for some cinnamon! I would be very offended if you didn’t have at least a bit,” he said feigning a distressed voiced.

“Your breeches?” Nimue now had her eyes wide open.

“Don’t you worry, they were not the good ones. And that girl, Sera, she’s offering free breeches to everyone in Haven. I can always get a new pair if need it be.” Alistair winked while putting the tray down on Nimue’s cot. He sat on the edge of her cot, facing her.

The tray held a feast on it; two mugs with steamy hot milk and cinnamon, a platter of cheese and dried fruit, honey cakes, sweet meat pies and a bowl full of strawberries.

“I have to confess that I warmed the milk myself. Are you still game?” Alistair asked while handing Nimue one of the mugs. “Cullen told me that you had a pretty rough day. He asked me to keep an eye on you. So I thought; the best thing to cure bad days’ blues is milk with cinnamon. Best comfort drink from my childhood. It gives you a warm fuzzy feeling in your belly. Trust me.”

“My father wanted to call me Cinnamon. He says my skin is the colour of the spice,” Nimue said having a sip of the milk.

“Did he? I agree with him. That was _exactly_ what I thought the first time I saw you,” Alistair said sounding very surprised. “Why didn’t he?”

“Apparently my mother said no. She was not too fond of having her daughter named after food.”

“I don’t see the problem, Brie, Cheddar and Stilton are perfectly good names in my opinion.”

Nimue raised her voice in surprise, “Really?”

“Pretty Lady, we need to work on your sarcasm.”

After that they spent a long time just eating in silence staring at each other.

“I hope you are feeling better. I was worried when I saw you coming in. Looked like you’d seen a ghost.” Alistair said leaning back on her cot.

“I did. I saw a Qunari.”

“Cullen mentioned that. I take you told him about the issues your people have with them?”

“I did.”

“Good, the more people aware of the situation the better.” Alistair was being serious. He grabbed all the plates and mugs and stood up, picked up the tray and dropped it at the entrance of the tent.

"If it helps, I would never let any Qunari come close to you. Perish the thought if I would allow my sweet lady to be hurt!” He said in a whisper very close to her.

Nimue was startled. One second Alistair was across the room with the space of two cots separating them, the next he was sitting next to her cupping her chin with one hand and pulling her closer with the other.

He stared at her, moving his mouth closer to her without breaking the eye contact.

“If you don’t want me to kiss you, tell me right now. And you best make me believe you mean it,” Alistair warned her softly, his breath on her lips.

“Don’t kiss me.” Nimue wet her lips.

“Try again.” He gave soft; very light kisses along her cheek and on the corner of her lips. “And be warned, this is your last chance.”

“Don’t... Kiss me?”

He laughed. Gripping a hand full of her hair, he captured Nimue’s mouth as he pressed her down the cot. His tongue probed her lips and when she opened them, he kissed her deep and hard. Alistair rubbed his thumb on her chin prompting Nimue to open her mouth wider and whispered, "I want more, give me your tongue."

She complied, putting her tongue deep inside his mouth, he promptly started sucking and teasing it with his own tongue. He raised his head to stare into her eyes, “Since the Crossroads I couldn’t stop thinking about kissing you again.” He moved his hands to her hair and resumed kissing her. He gave her slow and deep kisses, his tongue gliding, slipping and sliding in her mouth. He caught her lower lip between his own and tugged it lazily away with his teeth. He released it and quickly and returned to catch her lips again.

Alistair's hands slid slowly on her side and he began to pull away her tunic. Nimue only realised her tunic was gone when he started to undoing her breast band. He had to break the kiss to finish unwrapping her, Nimue protested the loss of his mouth with a moan. He laughed amused, “Patience, my lady, we have all night.”

When he was finished unwrapping her, Alistair stopped and stared at her for a few moments. "You have amazing breasts. I've wanted to play with them since the moment I saw you." Alistair leaned and grabbed one of her nipples between his fingers, he pinched it and then went back to knead her breasts with his both hands. "Maker, I want you so much!"

Nimue could only sigh. Alistair lowered his entire body over hers, resting his thighs between her legs. She could feel how hard he was against her.

"Why are you so quiet, Pretty Lady?"

"I don't have much…" Nimue sounded hesitant. "Much experience... I only did it once."

Alistair gave a sleek glide of his tongue down her neck, “I am more than happy to help you with that." He said as she giggled against his neck. “We can spend every night working on your expertise." He said pinching her nipples one more time.

“You could start by using your mouth. I shall demonstrate.” He lowered his head to her breast and started to taunt her nipple with the tip of his tongue. Nimue gasped. He suckled hard and then moved to the underside of her nipple slowly flicking his tongue. He repeated the ‘lesson’ on the other breast. Nimue’s fingers stole into strands of his hair holding him there. He lifted his head and blew cool air over her moist nipples. Her body jerked.

He didn’t move and Nimue gazed down at him. He was watching her as if waiting for something.

“If you let go of my hair, I can continue your lesson,” he said raising one of his eyebrows and with a wicked smile.

She flushed and released his hair. He started kissing the underside of her breast. His mouth left a trail of wet kissed across her ribs to the centre of her stomach. He dipped his tongue into her belly button rhythmically, causing a flood of wetness between her thighs. He continued down her body, sucking a trail on her lower belly. A spasm shook her and she giggled.

“Ticklish?”

“A little.”

“Very good to know.”

He blew off cool breath over the moist trail he left behind. He used that as a distraction to slide her breeches from her body. That was when they heard Varric’s voice.

“Majesty? Are you there? You are late for the game.”

They heard the footsteps approaching the tent, and Alistair quickly jumped out of Nimue’s cot, pulling the blanket to cover her naked body and grabbing his shield to cover his bulging erection. He beat Varric in opening the tent’s flap.

“Hey Varric, just polishing off the old shield. I’ll be right there.”

“Well, Majesty, if you need some time so you can _lower_ your shield.  We will be waiting for you in the tavern,” Varric said winking at Alistair.

Nimue turned on the cot, “Go, they are waiting for you.”

Alistair looked at her and groaned. “Blast it! I am so sorry, Pretty Lady. I promise to make it up for you.” He exited the tent and walked toward the tavern. _You are a blighted_ _idiot_ , he thought as opened the Tavern door. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen gets sick.

Nimue woke before the sun was up. She had barely slept. After Alistair left, she had tossed and turned in her cot thinking about what had transpired between them, too aroused to settle down. People were not attracted to her, so his actions stumped her more than anything. She kept going over what happened-- how he touched her, what he said, the way his mouth felt against her skin. She tried to make sense of it all. However, the more she repeated the events in her mind, the more the well-known feelings of worthlessness and self-doubt took place. Well, at least she knew how to deal with those.

 

She knew he could not be interested in her. Nobody had ever been interested in her. She was something that would never mean anything to anyone. Among her clan, she was not tall enough, not smart enough, not attractive enough, and not thin enough. She had heard those words repeated so many times that it was second nature to her and accepted them as fate. Now she was among different people and her feelings of inadequacy were even more exacerbated. She knew she was different. She felt it in her bones. At least most of the people here had the decency to not stare directly at her like she was a freak. But, there were others that didn’t shy away from her alien looks. Others like Sera and Cullen.

 

When Nimue came of age, the matrons from her village had told her that she was not proper mating material. She was told that someone might look for her to obtain release if desperate, but not to make her their mate. And that is exactly what had happened to her. Nimue had just one sexual experience and he died shortly after in a confrontation with the Qunari. She never knew if he even liked her, but she was convinced he didn't.

 

Nimue saw what her parents had. She had witnessed the desire her father had for her mother before she died. She desperately wanted that. She clung to every scrap of emotional attachment that came her way, so she could feel desired, even if for a very brief period. That was why she was so willing to accept whatever Alistair gave her. She knew all too well that once he left, as they always did, she was going to be shattered but she was too enticed to back away. She would accept his little morsels of affection and pick herself up later. She was good at that, she knew how to lift her heart from the ground after it had been stomped on.

 

She put on fresh clothes, plaited her hair and decided to make her way to Cullen’s tent. She knew he would be up this early in the morning and she could use the distraction that work would bring.

_____

 

“By the Lady! Nimue!” Cullen said quite startled when he saw Nimue standing in front of his desk. His mind had been all over the place. His legs felt like pins and needles while he was laying in his cot, they had bothered him so much that he had spent the entire night sitting at his desk trying to go through his reports to distract himself from the uncomfortable sensation. He was so engrossed in the missive before him that he didn’t hear Nimue enter his tent.

 

“I thought you heard me,” Nimue said quietly.

 

“No, I obviously didn’t. The woman moves so quietly I should get her a bell,” Cullen grumbled to himself. He realised she was talking and drew his attention to her. “Forgive me, my mind isn’t quite awake yet. You were saying?”

 

“I asked if it was okay to start earlier today. We could have more done before you need to join your recruits,”Nimue asked trying to hide her smile. She had heard what he had mumbled to himself. She made a note to announce herself next time as to not startle him again.

 

“That should be fine.” He waved his hand towards a chair on the other side of his desk, trying not to be too rude.

 

He mumbled some instructions to Nimue of what he wanted her to do. With very little guidance she managed to go through his paperwork and sort it out in piles. Cullen was impressed with her work, she actually looked like she knew what she was doing, unlike most of his soldiers.

 

“Are you and Alistair friends?” Nimue said looking quite inquisitive towards Cullen.

 

“Why do you ask that?”

 

“I was curious. He mentioned meeting you a long time ago, so I thought you may be friends.”

 

“I don't know if ‘friends’ is the right word, but as you said, we've known each other for a long time. I would say we have a history."

 

"Because you were Templars?"

 

"That too."

 

“What else?”

 

“We met during the Blight. I served at the Circle in Kinloch Hold. It was my first assignment after Templar training. He, along with others, saved my life there. After that I was transferred to Kirkwall. Alistair was living there so we crossed paths again. We had very different interests during the time we were both there. Our interests have grown more ‘aligned’ since he joined the Inquisition.”

 

“Varric is also from Kirkwall, Alistair said. Were you friends with him?”

 

“Varric was good friends with the Champion, Hawke and Alistair. All of them used to spend a lot of time in the local tavern. We’ve spoken more since I joined the Inquisition- largely to Varric’s insistence. Apparently I spend too much time with a serious look on my face, and it’s bad for my health, according to him.”

 

“I agree with Varric. You should let your guard down a bit, smile more. You have beautiful smiles, they light up your face,” Nimue said concentrating again on the paperwork.

 

“I… Thank you, Nimue,” Cullen blushed. “Now, if you would be so kind, here is another pile I would like you to go through,” he said trying to change the subject.

 

“Yes, absolutely,” She stood up and pick up the pile of paper and then turned back to face him. “Yes, I definitely think that such a beautiful smile shouldn’t be so rare.” She said as if reaching a conclusion. She turned around without giving Cullen a chance to reply.

 

He was thankful she didn’t keep looking at him because he could feel his face turning a brilliant shade of crimson. Why did she have this effect on him? He was not an inexperienced teenager. He had his fair share of affairs, some more fulfilling than others, he knew how to behave around women. So why all the blushing and stuttering? Cullen thought confused.

 

“Cullen, if you would come here, please, I can show you how I organised everything,” Nimue said to him. He stood up to make his way to where she was when he heard a loud ringing in his ear. His head felt very light and his vision started to blur.

 

“Cullen! Cullen!” He opened his eyes and saw Nimue’s face right over his. That’s when he realised he was lying on the floor.

 

“What happened?” he asked as he tried to sit. He felt very confused.

 

“You fainted. My back was turned so, I just heard the thud when you hit the floor,” Nimue put his hand on his forehead. “You are burning with fever! Come, you need to lay down. I have some herbs that will help with your temperature. When was the last time you ate?”

 

“I can’t remember.” Right now, he couldn’t remember if he ever ate in his life.

 

“Well, that means it has been too long,” Nimue said, helping him stand up and make his way to the cot behind the desk. “Lucky you don’t have your full armour on, otherwise you probably would have hurt yourself.”

 

Cullen tried to reply but he started shaking with cold and words wouldn’t come out of his mouth.

 

“I am going to put you under your blankets and I am going to my tent to get the herbs to make tea. I will be back before you notice, do not move!” Nimue said quite bossily. Cullen felt his eyes very heavy, and no matter how much he tried it was physically impossible for him to keep them opened.

_____

 

A sweet and fruity smell made Cullen open his eyes. He felt his stomach rumble. He tried to rise from his cot but it was like his limbs were made of lead.

 

“Good, you finally woke up,” he heard Alistair’s voice say. “I was starting to think you were enjoying staying in bed. You are getting soft, Commander. Anyway, I’ll go and grab Nimue.”

 

Cullen didn’t understand what he meant by staying in his cot. _It surely hasn’t been long I have just closed my eyes. The sun hasn’t even come up yet,_ he thought.

 

“Nossa! Criadores! You finally woke up, another night and we would need to call the healer,” Nimue said putting her hand on his forehead to check his temperature. “Alistair, can you can you please get some soup from the fire outside? This time you can add some solids in it, not just broth.”

 

“How long was I out?” Cullen asked.

 

“Three days.”

 

“Maker’s Breath! What about the troops? The...” He couldn’t wrap his mind around how long he was unconscious.

 

“Calm down Cullen. We took care of everything. Alistair said that you wouldn’t want for the troops to know that you were sick. That it would affect morale. He told them that Maxwell had summoned you to the Hinterlands. He and Rylen took care of the troops, and I took care of you. You were in pretty bad shape, but Alistair said that there was nothing much we could do, that we needed to keep your fever down, comfortable and fed.”

 

“Also Elfroot potions, we need to give him plenty of those. Rejuvenation potions to be exact,” Alistair said while coming in holding a bowl of soup with some bread. “There you go big fella, one bowl of Nimue’s amazing vegetable soup. You better eat; you got the Pretty Lady here scared good. I tried to explain to her that it is a common Templar malady, and ex-Templars are quite susceptible, but she would have none of it. I must confess, though, that I have never seen someone get as sick as you did. At any rate, I need to go. The recruits will be gathering for training soon. I’ll come back to check on you later today,” Alistair said.

 

“Thank you, Alistair.”

 

“Nah, don’t mention it,” Alistair said making his way out of the tent.

 

“You need to drink this tea and eat something,” Nimue said bringing him a mug with steaming hot tea. Cullen noticed that the tips of her fingers were glowing purple. He knew it was magic but it felt different from the magic he was used to.

 

“What are you doing?” Cullen asked puzzled.

 

“I am enhancing the healing properties of the tea. Is that a problem for you if I use a bit of magic?”

 

“I have never heard of such magic, but it is not a problem.”

 

“It is exclusive to my people. Do you think you are strong enough to sit up without help?”

 

Cullen raised his body and sat up on his cot. Nimue sat on the chair that was beside his cot.

 

“Nimue, thank you for everything, but I don’t think you need to stay here any longer.”

 

Nimue turned to Cullen and raised her finger and pointed to his face. “You know, one thing that really annoys me is this bullshit pride that you southerners have. So let’s cut the crap, you need me here. You can barely feed yourself without fainting from exhaustion. And what would you do if I were not here? Drag yourself to your troops, pretend that you were all good and healthy, and then fall on your face in front of them? One would think that a person with such a sharp mind for strategy would be a bit savvier when it comes to their health! So you better eat this soup and drink this bloody tea because I am not going anywhere, Commander, and neither will you until I say so!” 

For the next few days Nimue and Cullen fell onto a little routine. She would come early in the morning with his food. After he ate, she would make him get out of bed and sit at this desk. They would go through some paperwork until lunchtime. After his meal, Nimue would make Cullen have some more of her special tea. He tried to avoid drinking it by giving her all the excuses he could come up with, but Nimue never budged. She wouldn’t allow him to do any more work for the day, she let him to read a book until it was time for him to be smuggled out of his tent for some fresh air. She would then make sure that he ate all his supper and waited until he went to bed.

__

 

“Alistair told the troops that you are expected to return today. I was thinking that you could arrive after lunch,” Nimue said handing him his breakfast. She knew his preferences: cider instead of tea, bread with butter and honey instead of porridge.

 

“That would be good.” Cullen looked at Nimue while he ate. Spending the last days few with her made him accept that he was infatuated with her. He felt an urge to tell her more about himself. That was foreign to him. He was usually a very reserved person, sharing things about himself was nothing something he did. But he felt like telling her what he was going through. Tell her how much he appreciated her company in the mornings, and the little things that she did for him like bringing his favourite books from the library, and brewing tea (even though he despised the stuff) especially for him. Maybe he should test the waters, try to determine how she would react if he told her the truth about his past and what he had done. Maker, the slightest possibility of Nimue knowing what he was, and not to be disgusted by it made his heart sing.

 

The sound of Alistair arriving in his tent made him wake up from his daydreaming. “A messenger just arrived, the Herald will be here within the hour.”

__

 

Nimue was inside Maxwell’s cabin for at least two hours waiting to talk to him alone. She chose the darkest corner in the room and entered just partial stealth, she just wanted to avoid detection in case someone else came into the cabin with him.

 

“Yes, Tevinter I know it is fucking cold, so get yer pretty arse to the cabin that was assign to ye, wave yer fingers and start a bloody fire. Be glad is not a fucking tent! I’ll meet with ye after I’ve cleaned. I am fucking tired of ye complaining I smell!"

 

“Vescure bracis meis!"

 

“And I know what that fucking means!”

 

Maxwell got inside his cabin mumbling to himself, “And he says that I need to wash my mouth. Just he wait ‘til I show him what else I can do with my mouth!” He dropped his gear on the desk and started to undress himself.

 

Nimue got out of her hiding place. “A Qunari! A Qunari, Maxwell?” She said raising her voice.

 

Maxwell jumped startled and grabbed his short sword and pointed to where the voice was coming. “For fuck’s sake, Nimue! Do ye want to kill me? I almost shit my pants! If I die who will close that fucking breach?” He dropped his sword and put his hand to his chest.

 

“Maxwell, you recruited a Qunari? A Ben-Hassarath? How could you? They are murderers. They killed my people. My Mother! They are no different than dogs. You knew my story! How could you?” Nimue shouted and started crying.

 

“Nim, lass, calm down! I know what he is! I know the Qunari are fucking dodgy to say the least! But the Inquisition cannot refuse any help at this stage. I explained everything to ye in the letter I left. Why didn’t ye read it?”

 

“What letter?”

 

“The fucking letter that took me the whole night to write explaining why I recruited the blighted mercenaries. The fucking letter that I repeated one million times for ye not to fret that I had yer back and if the fucking Bull did anything more than breathe near ye I would cut his gonads out and serve them to him for breakfast,” Maxwell’s said as he reached for her. She moved away when she noticed that his face was red and the vain in his forehead had popped out.

 

“I never received a letter,” she said quietly.

 

“I gave it to that fucking harpy cunt, Leliana.” Max slammed his table down so hard that everything on it went flying and scattering on the floor.

 

“She never gave me a letter. She called me, _summoned_ was the word she used, to her tent and told me that she needed to inform me about the Inquisition’s decision.”

 

“I will kill that cunt! I WILL have words with her, fear not. She will be put back in her place!” Maxwell said coming closer to Nimue. “Come here.” He gave her an order.

 

“What?"

 

“Just fucking come!” He said opening his arms to her. She came into his hug. Because of their height difference, Maxwell had to lean his head on Nimue’s chest. He giggled “I can think of at least two gentlemen that would love to be in this position right now.”

 

“Max, stop joking,” she said as she tried to hold back a giggle.

 

“Look, Bradach," he said detangling from her. “You have my word that I will not let anything happen to ye or yer people. Ever. We have a deal that all the reports he writes to his people will come through me before he sends them out, and if I suspect ill dealings or treachery, I swear I will cut his throat myself! Nim do not ever doubt that I will protect ye. Now let me get changed. I need to check on the Tevinter and exchange some words with that harpy wench.”

 

“Thank you for everything, Max, and for taking care of me,” Nimue said as she made her way to the exit. She stopped. “Oh, Cullen has been on assignment for you the past week and half in the Hinterlands. He has been ill and that is the cover we gave, if you would please go along with it. He’s much better now.”

 

Maxwell nodded. He trusted Nimue with his life and the Commander has always been upfront with him, so Maxwell had no reason not to help them with the story. “I’ll say I had him rooting out some fucking Templars bastards for this blighted fucking cause of ours,” he said to her. “Now, go! That silly mage is probably a fucking icicle now, bloody Tevinters! He is probably too precious to build a blighted fire in his own fucking hearth!”

 

Nimue giggled as she left. She turned and made her way back to the Commander’s tent. Alistair should still be with the recruits, she would tell him later about her conversation with Maxwell.

 

When she got back to the Commander’s tent, he was sitting at his desk. “You’re looking better. I just came back from speaking with Max. He’s going to tell everyone that he sent you to seek out rogue Templars to recruit in the Hinterlands. You just tell everyone that it wasn’t a very successful mission,” she told Cullen.

 

He smiled. “Thank you, Nimue, for everything.”

 

“Well, we couldn’t have the Commander of the Inquisition dying on us, could we? Plus, I’d miss you.”

 

Cullen blushed at her words.

 

Rather than stand there staring awkwardly at each other, Nimue broke the silence. “I’m going to go tell Alistair about the chat with Max. I’ll bring you supper?”

 

“Only if you bring enough for yourself,” he said nervously. “I’d rather not eat alone.”

 

Nimue smiled and nodded. “Until then, Ser,” she said as she left the tent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for everybody for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Party in Haven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

Everything that happened that morning caught Nimue by surprise. Since Maxwell arrived three days earlier things had been hectic. Since then, Nimue had just had a few hours of sleep. She was tasked with having to help to lodge and feed the Mages that seemed to arrive in Haven at all hours of the day and night. Also, she was keeping her morning meetings with the Commander where she always ended up with more tasks that she had to perform during the day on top of everything else. That morning, however, when she turned up at Cullen’s tent to start their morning, she found him rushing out.

“We are just a few hours from attempting to close that thing,” Cullen said looking to the fractured sky. “Solas has already gone to the Temple with the Mages. Cassandra and I are going to accompany the Herald there.” Cullen approached Nimue, grabbed her shoulders hard with his hands and looked deeply into her eyes, “I don’t know if you pray or even believe in anything, but it wouldn’t hurt if you prayed for our success. This is our only chance, Nimue.”

"I will, Cullen. I don’t know if they will listen to me, though." “That is all I ask,” Cullen said leaving Nimue.

Nimue prayed. She was never the praying type, but she prayed anyway. She always doubted the Creators even knew she existed. She was still praying when she saw the surge of green light cut to the sky, hit the breach, and then a huge explosion of light that blinded the entire population of Haven. She looked up to where the Breach had been, the sky looked healed, scarred but healed. Maxwell and the mages were successful. Nimue heard people roar with joy, and she joined the crowd with her own out a cry of relief. Life was going to go back to normal, and now her people had a chance of surviving.

It didn’t take long for Maxwell and everybody to return from the Temple and the celebrations to begin. People were dancing around a huge bonfire, wine was flowing freely and above all there was a contagious sense of relief. Maxwell was sitting on a log watching the party when Nimue sat beside him and they observed the crowd dancing for a while.

“Why are you not dancing?” Nimue asked as she sat next to him.

“Not much of a dancer. Two left feet.” 

"Well, it doesn’t matter about your feet, does it? You did it!” Nimue hugged him.

“Aye, Solas confirmed the sky has a fucking scar but the thing is closed, fucking sealed. There are bloody rifts lingering all over the place, but this was a blighted good victory.” Maxwell patted Nimue’s back, he always felt a bit smothered when she hugged him.

“I bet word of your heroism has already spread.”

“I am no fucking hero. Many were involved, including ye. Cursed luck just put me at the centre.”

“A strange kind of luck. Not sure if we need more or less. But you are right; this was a victory of alliances. With the Breach closed this alliance will need new focus. The Inquisition needs to think about my people and making an alliance with them.”

“Nim, no need to get fucking political with me! I am glad that thing is closed. I am still stuck with this damned glowing thing on my hand that doesn’t let me fucking sleep. I am sure that those harpy wenches won’t miss a chance to boss me around tomorrow, but one thing that is for fucking sure is that we can start to work on bringing yer people here. Even if I have to close another curse blighted cunt of a Breach!”

“Yes, that would be a dream come true.”

“Meanwhile ye keep going around Haven sweeping ex-fucking-Templars off their feet.” Maxwell waved his hand.

“What are you talking about? I have not done such a thing.”

“Mo Bradach, sometimes ye are so daft it hurts! Alistair stares at ye all the time. His eyes are always following ye like he is a dog in front of a butcher’s shop.”

“We kissed twice. I mean, it was more than just kissing. It was more like he was devouring me, but we were interrupted. I don’t know where things would have gone if we didn’t get interrupted.”

“Really?” Maxwell raised one eyebrow, he realised he sounded more protective than he wanted.

"Do ye feel anything for him?”

Nimue went gloomy, “Does that matter? He is going to dump me eventually anyway.”

“Why are ye saying that? Did he hurt ye? Did he say something to ye? I will fucking kill that bastard!” Maxwell made the motion of standing up. Nimue held him by his shoulder and pulled him back down.

“Max, calm down! He hasn’t done or said anything. I just know. I mean look at me. Why would he want to be with me?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Maxwell sounded puzzled.

“The matrons of my people told me already I am not mate material. Not intelligent, beautiful, tall or thin.” Nimue looked detached like she was retelling a passage of a book memorised long ago.

“Aye, definitely fucking daft. And not only ye but yer entire fucking race if they said something like that to ye! No wonder ye are in the verge of extinction. All fucking idiots!”

"Maxwell, don't say that, they are right."

"All this cold must have froze yer fucking brains! Nimue, ye are the finest piece of arse in Haven! And it is not only that, lass! Ye are intelligent, witty, inquisitive and yer naïveté is just fucking adorable. Ye left the cosiness of yer bed to save yer entire race! And don't come back with the lame excuse that ye are here because ye look like us. That is just old. Yer people wouldn’t send ye if you were as dumb as a door knob.”

Nimue widened her eyes, “Is that what you really think about me? You don’t think I am a freak?”

“For fuck sake, Bradach! Besides daft are ye fucking deaf? Are ye even fucking listening? Of course ye are not a sodding freak.”

“But everybody keeps looking at me. Sera came to me the other day and said, ‘Wow, you are well fed!’”

“Because ye are all tall and exotic, genius! Not because ye are weird! Definitely daft!” He growled to himself.

“But there is also Cullen... and Leliana.” Nimue said sheepishly.

“I don’t know what is wrong with that harpy cunt, but I will sort her out. And the Commander, well call me a nug’s fart if I am wrong, but that man wants to get into your pants.”

“All he has to do is ask. But why would he want my pants? I thought his were perfectly good ones.”

Maxwell burst into laughter. “I mean fuck ye, ye daft girl. Copulate, fornicate, make love, boning, shagging, banging.”

“What?” Nimue asked.

“Sheathing the sword, grinding the whetstone, getting your leg over, bumping, busting the load, lick ye all over….” he laughed as he trailed off.

Nimue blinked.

“Fucking intercourse lass, ye know? When someone puts their meaty parts into someone’s else?”

“Okay Max, I got it.”

“Mo Bradach, time to stop this drama and give the two finger salute to yer fucking matrons! They don’t know shit! Ye are beautiful because ye are the whole package. Nim, the first time I saw yer, I wanted to toop your brains out! And then we spoke and it was fucking love at first fucking sight. Fucking friendship fraternal love. Aye, Bradach, I love ye!”

“ I love you too, Max! My foul mouthed berserker!”

“Lass, what I am trying to tell ye is that ye have a distorted, twisted and wrong vision of yerself. If ye were this fucking piece of shit ye think ye are, ye wouldn’t be here. Fucking simple as that. And look there. That lad is about to kill me,” Nimue looked to where Maxwell pointed with his head and saw Alistair, apart from the celebration leaning against the wall of the warehouse hut.

“Ye better go and talk to him.”

________

The insistent rough shriek in his head had a terrible habit of catching him by surprise. It was a dreadful voice that didn’t stop repeating his name. When he was busy- talking or fighting- he had no problems, it was when he was quiet; like now. That was when the thing started to creep up in his brain. _Is this the calling? Oh for Andraste’s crossed eyes! I really thought I would still have at least 20 years left before I had to worry about it. And what does an ex-Grey Warden do? Go to the Deep Roads? Am I even allowed there? No Alistair, let’s not go there tonight._

Alistair looked across the party taking place and saw Nimue. Maker, how he desired her. In the beginning he couldn’t understand her uneasiness around him. At first he wondered if she was afraid of him, but he quickly shrugged that concern away. It was not fear he saw in her beautiful eyes. He was almost certain it was a reflection of the desire he felt for her. Alistair inwardly laughed. He was falling in love. And he was too much of a chicken to tell her. _Why is fighting darkspawn easier than telling this sweet woman that I am over the moon for her?_ It made no sense to him, but it was a fact. Sharing how he felt terrified him. He had his entire life to find someone, and now that he was hearing the blighted calling was when she showed up. Things always had to be dramatic and difficult for him. Suddenly, he sensed the rose perfume with which he was so familiar.

“I’ll never get over how quietly you are able to move,” Alistair said without looking at Nimue.

"It took me years to learn, and even then I am not the best of it. Rather than not heard, I prefer not to be seen at all.”

“I am not sure if I would like that.”

“What?”

“Not to see you. I think you are the most beautiful person I know.” Alistair looked at her and smiled.

“I doubt that, Alistair.”

“Yes, you are. And not only beautiful, you are brave, resourceful and you have the most amazing eyes I have ever seen- like molten chocolate.” Alistair turned and caressed her cheeks with his knuckles. He spent several minutes just stroking her cheeks and looking at her. She had her eyes closed and a subtle smile on her lips. He took a deep breath and decided to be brave. “So all this time we spent together, chasing wardens, hunting game for the refugees, Mages, Templars, the tragedy, the constant fighting… will you miss it now that is over?”

“You are joking, right?”

“Yes, only one of the sisters at the monastery used to never laugh at my jokes. No matter how hard I tired she used to just glare at me. Anyway, I know it might sound strange, considering we haven’t known each other for very long, but I have come to care for you a great deal.” Alistair put his hands on Nimue’s waist and looked straight in her eyes. “I think maybe it is because we have been through everything together since the beginning. I don’t know… or maybe I am imagining it. Maybe I am fooling myself. Am I fooling myself? Or do you think you might feel the same way about me?” He gazed down trying to avoid eye contact.

“I think I do,” Nimue said softly.

“Good.” He pulled her closer and kissed her. Alistair slowly pushed Nimue towards the entrance of the hut. Without breaking the kiss he opened the door and guided her inside. He then pushed the door closed with his foot, and continued to guide her until she was leaning against some fruit crates.

As he deepened the kiss, Alistair slid his hand inside her shirt, up her ribcage and over her breast. He brushed his thumb over her nipple until it hardened, pressing against the worn linen of her breastband.

Alistair unlaced Nimue’s shirt and took it off, and Nimue said something in her language, he couldn’t understand but he felt his pants grow tight with want. He pulled her breastband until it was hanging from her waist and kissed the skin between her breasts. He felt her threading her fingers through his hair as he slowly traced the shape of her breasts with kisses. He heard her sighing in pleasure while he used the tip of his tongue to lick back the same path he had done with kisses.

“Maker, you taste divine,” Alistair said as he enclosed the tip of one of her nipples in his mouth, teasing it with his tongue and then suckling it. He went back to claim her mouth. He trailed kisses down her neck while pressing his body against hers and rocking his hips, teasing the inside of her thigh with his hard shaft, making sure she could feel how swollen he was. He grabbed her hand and put on his cock.

“Can you feel how hard you make me? How much I want you?”

Nimue had no idea how, but Alistair managed to open her breeches and pull them down. He slid one finger inside her then the other. He felt Nimue’s pussy clenching around his hand as he thrusted his fingers slowly and deeply inside her. “

Oh Maker, you are so wet! I have to taste you.” Alistair kneeled and eased Nimue’s thighs opened by putting one of her legs over his shoulder. He raked his fingers through her curls and then used both hands to spread her swollen lips wide. He lowered his head and kissed her clit. Alistair felt Nimue’s body shudder as she tried to keep standing.

He kissed, suckled and flicked her clit with his tongue until he felt her juices flowing freely. “Forgive me for not being strong enough to wait until we were in our tent, but all I can think is how much I want you.” He leaned forward and gave her quivering pussy the kind of deep penetrating kiss her lips craved. He felt her hips move to the rhythm of of his tongue. Oh dear Maker, he never wanted this to end. He felt Nimue’s fingers tugging his head upwards; he followed the suggestion, shifting his mouth to her clit.

Alistair laughed, “That’s it Pretty Lady, show me what you want.” He flicked his tongue over her clit so fast he could feel she was sputtering on the verge of climax.

He released her hold for a moment to undo his pants and let his cock free. He began to stroke his stone hard shaft with one hand, working on his length with a tight fist and resumed suckling on Nimue’s clit.

That was when they heard a bell tolling. Nimue, surprised, jerked herself forward trying to disengage.

Alistair gently pushed her back against the crates, “Easy, Pretty Lady. I am sure it is just someone celebrating.”

The next thing they heard was Cullen’s voice shouting, “Forces approaching! To arms!” Alistair stood up, trying to do his pants, and growled in frustration.

“Maker's hairy arse, This is not funny anymore! Let’s go, Nimue, I guess we are needed. Believe me when I say, we WILL finish this later!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for my awesome betas! Specially when it comes to helping me finding as many synonyms as possible for shagging!!!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All hell breaks lose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be a slightly NSFW chapter... So be careful
> 
> Also, I want to see if someone spots the quote from Braveheart LOL

Nimue sat down on the closest Chantry bench she could find and tried to catch her breath. A dragon appeared in the sky right after the avalanche buried the Red Templar army. The dragon’s arrival cut the search for survivors that she and Alistair were doing short.  They ran to hide inside the Chantry. It was the only building that could withstand an attack from that beast.

 

Nimue rubbed her forehead and then her eyes. The Inquisition was obviously going to die there, and all the hopes to save her people would go with it.   _Funny, I always thought impending doom would feel different, should feel different, with a bit more desperation and less weariness in the mix perhaps. Right now I just want everything to be over._

 

“Just close the fucking door!” Nimue heard Maxwell roar as he rushed in. “Is everybody here? Where is Nimue? And that insufferable Tevinter?”

 

Nimue heard Dorian’s voice at the back of the Chantry. “I am here, you troglodyte!” She did notice he sounded a bit relieved.

 

She stood up and approached Max. “I am here, Max.” Already a small crowd was forming around him. 

 

“Herald, our position is not good. The dragon stole back anytime you might have earned us with the trebuchets!” Cullen said anxiously.

 

“That is fucking obvious, Commander! An army of cursed Templars and now a fucking archdemon!  What’s next? The fucking Maker himself pulling lighting out of his arse and shooting it at us? Brilliant, just fucking brilliant!”

 

“I have seen an archdemon once. It was in the fade, but it looked like that."

 

Nimue looked around to see where the voice was coming from and saw the young man that arrived earlier to warn them against the incoming Templar attack. His name was… Cole, she remembered through a murky haze.

 

"Ye! Ye were in the fucking blight! Ye should know! Is that a fucking archdemon?" Maxwell said turning toward Alistair.

 

"Never saw one in real life, only in my nightmares. My guess is as good as yours. You should take the boy's word. And if it is one, our chances of survival are non-existent," Alistair said raising his eyebrow.

 

"Fucking Brilliant!" Maxwell threw his hands to the air.

 

“I don’t care what it looks like! It opened a path for the enemy. They will kill everyone in Haven,” Cullen ended the discussion. He was right, it didn’t matter if the dragon was an archdemon or not – it was going to kill them all regardless.

 

“The elder one doesn’t care about the Village. He only wants the Herald,” Cole whispered quietly.

 

“Ah for fuck’s sake! Tell him to get in line then! Whole bunch of people want a piece of me, ” Maxwell waved his hand dismissively.

 

Cullen looked straight at  Maxwell. “Herald, there are no tactics to make this survivable. The avalanche was the only thing that slowed them down. We could turn the remaining trebuchets and cause one last slide.”

 

“And fucking kill everyone? Bury fucking Haven? Fucking brilliant!” Maxwell became more enraged.

 

“We die but we decide how, many don’t get the choice.” Cullen was adamant.

 

“Well, if none of you geniuses have any other fucking brilliant idea...”

 

Roderick pulled Cole down and whispered something to his ear. “Chancellor Roderick can help. He wants to say something before he dies,” Cole spoke loudly.

 

Maxwell whirled around to face Roderick, stabbing his finger towards the man. “Someone tell this wanker this is not the time to bust my balls!”

 

Cole looked at Maxwell puzzled. “He tried to stop a Templar. The blade went deep. He is going to die. He is trying to help.”

 

“There is a path out of here. You wouldn’t know unless you had made the summer pilgrimage,” Roderick coughed.

 

“Now that you mention it, I remember this path. We used it to leave Haven when we came back from the Temple during the blight. We certainly could use this path,” Alistair interrupted Roderick.

 

“What are ye two fucking blabbering about?”

 

“It was on a whim that I walked the path. It was Andraste that put me here to show you the way,” the Chancellor added.

 

“Aye, aye... Andraste. Always fucking Andraste,” Maxwell said quite dismissively. “Commander, will this work?”

 

“Possibly, if the Chancellor and Alistair show us the way. But  what of your escape?”

 

“Thought ye were sharper than that, Commander.”

 

Cullen stopped for a moment to digest what Maxwell had just said. “Perhaps you’ll surprise it. Find a way.”

 

Maxwell smirked dismissively. “Every man dies, Commander. Few have fucking lived. I will go down having fun! Ye gather these people and make yer fucking way out of here! My sword and this Elder One fucker are going to have a nice chat.”

 

Maxwell grabbed his large claymore and was making his way to the door when Nimue approached him. “What I am going to say next is not open for discussion or negotiation, so save it. I am going with you.”

 

Maxwell sighed heavily. “Very well, Lass. I wouldn’t have anyone else with me.”

___

 

Maxwell took a deep breath and felt his lungs burn. _This is not the fucking fade. Too bloody cold to be the fade. Too cushy too... Ah fuck, I am buried in the snow! Fucking Flying Maker's Cock! I didn’t sign for this crap! Dragon, lunatics Templars and now an ugly crazy big mother fucker that thinks it’s a fucking god! Peachy!  Corypheus, what an ugly name! And my arm is a blighted Anchor for fucking who knows what!_

_I apparently interrupted a ritual years in the planning… As far as I can remember, I just wanted to find a garderobe and, somehow, ended stealing that fucker’s purpose in life!! Fuck that! And then he decides to go all poetic to me; ‘I have seen the throne of the gods and it was empty!’ Of course it fucking was! They saw that fucker coming from a distance and ran away scared of how ugly he was! Fuck him!_

_Okay, so I am going to open my fucking eyes now, no point of fucking ranting half buried in snow... Oh for fuck’s sake, Maxwell! Stop being fucking lazy! Open yer eyes!_

After what seemed an eternity, Maxwell did open his eyes. He surveyed the area around him. Everything looked white with the snow. He saw the debris of what used to be Haven. He raised himself to his elbows and not far from him he saw what looked to be someone’s body buried under the remains of the trebuchet. He jerked forward, stood up and ran towards the body. It was Nimue. She was covered in blood, and her lips were so blue that he couldn’t tell if she was breathing or not. He didn’t have time to think about what was happening. He grabbed his dagger and placed the flat part under her nose (an old trick he learned during his training). Condensation formed, and only then did he sigh in relief; she was still breathing. He pulled the planks of wood that were over her and carried her away from the debris.

 

“Nim, Lass. Wake up! I need ye to open yer eyes.” Maxwell shook her a bit too strongly.

 

“Argh…”

 

“Now open yer fucking eyes! And for fuck’s sake look at me!” Maxwell was yelling at her.

 

Maxwell watched as Nimue open her eyes, but he could tell that she was having a hard time focusing. He was about to lose his patience and shake her again when he heard her.

 

“Max… my legs…” Nimue said faintly.

 

Maxwell looked down, to see  jagged edges of the bones tearing clean through her skin of her left leg. Her right leg was also bent at an impossible angle, so it probably wasn’t in a better shape than her left leg. Her right arm had been crushed under a heavy log. There was a lump on her forehead and blood trickled out of her left ear.

 

“Aye, Bradach, yer legs are pretty fucked up. Ye won’t be able to walk out of here. Now what about the rest?

 

“I can’t breath, " She panted.

 

“Ye probably have cracked a rib or two. Ye are in a pretty bad shape, not going to sugar coat it.”

 

“When have you ever sugar coated anything?” Nimue coughed and Maxwell saw blood spurting from her mouth.

 

“Ouch, someone is learning. Nim, I need to set yer legs so we can get the fuck out of here. It is going to hurt like a mother fucking cunt. Hopefully ye will pass out and ye’ll won’t feel too much pain.”

 

Maxwell kissed her cheek and walked in the direction of the destroyed trebuchet to find some wood he could use as splints. When he found some, Maxwell walked back to Nimue and stripped off all the layers of his armour and his linen undershirt. He tore his shirt into large bands to tie the planks together.

 

“Max, you will freeze without your shirt.”  Nimue whispered.

 

“Nonsense. I have my gambeson. I am not going to fucking freeze.”

 

He laid the planks beside Nimue’s legs. He caressed her hair and turned his back to Nimue to block her view. “Now, tell me were ye fucking Alistair when those sods arrived?” From the corner of his eye he saw Nimue open her mouth to answer only to faint suddenly from the pain of realigning her bones.“I always thought it was better to do this without any fucking warning so ye don’t crap yer pants anticipating the pain.” Maxwell said more to himself than to the unconscious Nimue.  

_____

“Alistair! There is absolutely nothing we can do until we settle everyone. We need to make sure the people here stay alive before we go in search of survivors. Stop and think!” Cullen grabbed Alistair by the shoulder and shook him, “We will go after everybody is safe.”

 

Survivors from Haven were gathering in a valley among the mountains that allowed them to be sheltered from the wind. They had been walking for hours but Cullen now had halted the march to take toll of survivors and supplies.

 

Tents were set up and fires were lit quite quickly considering the contingency of civilians that were travelling.  Before long, Cullen saw food being cooked and people settling for the night. He would not have any more excuses to delay the search for Maxwell and Nimue. He was dreading this moment since he saw Nimue leaving. _Why did she have to go with Maxwell? She should have stayed! I should have made her stay!_

 

Cullen didn’t want to find her body. He had seen too many bodies of people he cared about in Kinloch and Kirkwall. That would make things real- final, and he didn’t want that to happen. He didn’t want closure. He wanted to keep hoping that she might have survived and was somewhere safe. He let out a deep sigh and went to the troop’s camp to gather a search team.

 

He arrived in camp and found Alistair. “Get Blackwall, Cassandra and Solas. We are going back for them.”

_____

 

They spent endless hours scouting the area around the mountain where they assumed Maxwell and Nimue could have been.  What was not buried under the snow had been destroyed. Cullen heard Alistair’s relieved sigh every time they found a dead body in the wreckage that proved to be neither Nimue’s or Max’s. It appeared he was not the only one who didn’t want to find her body.

 

At dusk of the second day, Cullen decided to put a halt in the search, the cold was becoming unbearable, and there was not enough light for them to see properly. The search party was walking back to  camp when they heard Maxwell’s voice in a distance.

 

“Don’t ye fucking dare die on me, Bradach! Not now! Not like this! We are so fucking close. I can see the camp. C’mon! Wake up! Don’t die on me, Lass!”

 

Alistair groaned loudly and was the first one to run in the direction to where the voice was coming from. When they arrived, they saw Maxwell sitting in the snow holding Nimue in his arms. Cullen’s heart skipped a beat. She looked dead. She can’t be dead!

 

“Herald!” Cullen shouted.

 

“I think she is fucking dead, Cullen! Help her!” Maxwell entreated as the tears streamed down his face. “She started bleeding from her side and coughing fucking blood! And she is fucking freezing. I did my best to keep her alive but I am no sodding mage.”

 

Solas knelt down besides Maxwell,“Allow me.” He opened her armour and raised Nimue’s shirt to check on her. Her abdomen was severely bruised and she had a deep cut right above her hip bone that was oozing blood. Solas magically healed the cut. “That is all I can do for her here without more resources, we need to take her to the camp now. She is about to freeze to death. Alistair, run ahead and get Vivienne along with any other healers that are available to be ready for our arrival. She will need all the help she can get.  Cassandra, you tend to Maxwell. The Commander and I will tend to the Fex.”

 

Cullen grabbed Nimue and was alarmed at how easily he could lift her. She wasn’t much shorter than he was- barely four inches- and by no means a scrawny figure, but he could still carry her like a child. _Must be another ‘Fex’ thing_ , he thought.

 

When they arrived at the camp, Vivienne and another enchanter were already waiting for Nimue in a tent. Alistair ran to where the group was. Solas barely looked at him before he started issuing orders.

 

“Alistair, you go and find the Tevinter to help you light some fires to warm them up. Cassandra, you stay with the Herald and look after him. He is not severely wounded so get a healer to help you. He probably just needs to be warmed up. Commander, you get her in this tent now! Someone grab all the spare blankets and furs, she needs to get warmed up!” Solas was giving instructions to anyone in sight.

 

Cullen carried Nimue to the tent and gently laid her down on what look like a makeshift bed of furs over a thick layer of blankets and mats.

 

“Commander, darling, could you please use your dagger to cut her clothes off? We need to start working on her fractures now,” Vivienne commanded after kneeling besides Nimue and began to check on the lump on her head.

 

Cullen hesitated for a moment but the look that Vivienne shot his way told him she meant business. He pulled his dagger from his waist and tore her coat and undershirt open along the seams.  Solas worked on her legs healing the cuts from where the fractured bones on Nimue’s legs.

 

Vivienne used the same kind of magic on Nimue’s upper body. Cullen couldn’t remember when he saw this amount of healing being used in someone. When Vivienne finished her work and left, Solas washed the gore off of Nimue’s body and then covered her with blankets and furs. Cullen stayed quietly in the corner. He was quite certain he should be doing something else, that he was possibly intruding but didn’t want to leave until he knew what Nimue’s chances of surviving were.

 

“Commander, we did what we could for her at this stage but she needs to be kept warm otherwise everything will be in vain. She had extensive fractures all over her body and a number of internal injuries and she may have a concussion. I need you to undress and lay with her.”

 

“Me?” Cullen sound more surprised than he wanted. But why? Why me?

 

“As I said, she needs to be kept warm. I am significantly smaller than her. You, however, are her size. She needs your body heat.”

 

“I don’t think I can do that’” Cullen hesitated.

 

“Commander, it is not the time to be prudish.” Solas didn’t sound amused.

 

“That is not it. I cannot spare the time.” Cullen said rubbing the back of his neck.

“Commander, the camp is set and this valley offer us protection from both the weather and enemies. I still need to check on the other wounded. You, however have no impending obligations right now. I am sure if something happens someone can always fetch you.”

 

“I... this is quite unorthodox.”

 

“Commander, I am happy to discuss my methods with you _after_ you have undressed and laid with her. And hurry, the longer you take, closer she gets to her death.”

 

“Oh for fuck sake, Cullen! Get in the fucking bed! Don’t make me get in there!” Cullen heard Maxwell yelling from the outside of the tent.

 

Cullen realised he didn’t have a choice on the matter, especially with Maxwell’s threats. He quickly undressed and got in bed with an unconscious Nimue.

 

“Commander, you need to press your body against hers. You’ll need to stay here until her body temperature comes back to normal. I’ll be back to check on her in a few hours."

______

Cullen felt Nimue’s skin against him, and she was freezing cold. The thought that she could not make it, hit him like a punch in the gut. He now knew it was not just an infatuation he felt for her, it was something deeper, more complicated. Nimue made him feel alive. Her daily morning visits were what made him endure his nightly struggles. She gave him something to look forward to.

 

He was tired, his body stiff with weariness and the heat that the layers upon layers of fur created was making him quite relaxed. He reached the covers and rearranged them properly over the both of them. He turned to the side to better embrace Nimue’s body.

 

“C’mon Sweetling, you are strong,” he whispered.

 

It was impossible to ignore the tenderness that she stirred within him. He was keenly aware of her body against his, of her hair against his skin. He held her tighter and felt her tremble against his chest.  He stroked her hair speaking softly to her, “It’s all right Sweetling. You will be all right.” He could hear her whimpering in pain. He kept stroking her hair and softly started singing.

“Shadows fall

And hope has fled

Steel your heart

The Dawn will come

The night is long

And the path is dark

Look to the sky

For one day soon

The dawn will come.”

 

Cullen felt Nimue settle and he continued to hum against her hair until they were both in deep sleep.

___

Cullen woke up with Nimue’s body pressed against his. From the light he saw from outside the tent it was already morning. He hadn't realised he’d fallen asleep. Nimue felt warm against his skin and she was breathing steadily. He gently cradled her against him, and kissed her cheek. “I knew you would be fine, Sweetling,” he said quietly with a smile. Perhaps he was dreaming impossibilities, or indulging in capricious fantasies, but for now he wanted to believe that this moment could last. Without having any control over his body the feeling of having her against his skin made his cock painfully erect. Realising what was happening he quickly moved away from her.

 

He could not allow himself to indulge in whimsical thoughts while Nimue laid half dead beside him. He had to be strong and ignore her rose scent and the way he felt holding her in his arms. As if on cue Cullen heard Solas voice outside the tent already opening its flaps.

 

“Commander how did she spend the night?”

 

“I believe she is breathing properly, but I am no healer.”

 

“No, of course you are not,” Solas said nonchalantly, making his way to examine Nimue. “It will be a long healing processes for her. There is only so much magic can do. Now Commander, if you’ll dress yourself. I will require aid in banding her ribs.”

____

When he was finally allowed, Alistair bolted into Nimue’s tent. Seeing her sleeping quietly relieved him immensely. She was going to live.

 

“You can stay until the other healer comes, then you need to let them work,” Solas said touching his shoulder. “She will live, thanks to the Commander.”

 

Alistair was unsure what Solas meant but at any rate he made a mental note to thank the Commander later, nonetheless. There was nowhere to sit, so he sat on the floor and held her hand. He didn’t know how long he spent just looking at her and rubbing circles with his thumb on the palm of her hand until he saw her stir and opened her eyes.

 

“Ali?”

 

“Yes, Pretty Lady, I am here,” he whispered as he caressed her hair.

 

“I finally had a dream.”

 

“Oh, did you? Was it a good dream?”

 

“It was what your people call a spirit of compassion. He sang for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the Kudos and comments, they are my fuel to keep going!


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